……Christmases past still present, my mother’s house is always filled with presents, I can still fill her presence, even in the dark there’s reverence, memories of Christmas lights, her voice and perfume fills the room, I can hear her asking me to help decorate and have I seen the broom, here, help me move the couch to the other side of the room, so you can clean the mirrors, you know you clean them the best, she always knew how to make me stick out my chest, her sense of humor was a mess, her laughter contagious, with a sense of style, for the best decor would run a mile and spend a pile, to make it beautiful, and have family and friends over for awhile, upside down pinnacle, pound cakes and pies, out come the best silverware forks and knives, I believed in Santa Claus cause she took the time to tell me such a beautiful lie, for a long time had me believing reindeers and a fat man could fly.