It’s early morning.
The coffee maker is bubbling and the hum of the space heater fills the room.
I close my eyes and imagine these next couple of days as Christmas is upon us again. Wrapping paper being torn. Flash from cameras lighting the rooms and smiles from ear to ear when the surprise of the gift meets the eyes.
I think of my dad and of Christmas past.
This will be the first Christmas that we won’t see of him opening a gift or opening the door for us to enter his home and give us that bear hug and say, “Merry Christmas!” We will miss him watching us opening our gifts and making us feel so warm and welcomed by his jolly and gentle nature.
My smile widens as the memories of him flood my thoughts. He was Christmas everyday. A gift given to me that always warmed the heart just like I felt on Christmas morning as a little boy.
Beginning this year and every year at this time, I will open gift that others won’t see. It will be a special present that has my name on it. I will be a little boy again in footed pajamas busting at the seams with excitement for that one gift to be handed to me.
I will open the gift of memory that my father left me under the tree.
Merry Christmas and I love you Dad.