Christmas Story # 3

I was thinking about Christmas and it occurred to me that when I pictured my parents at Christmas I always see the same picture, they are always seated in the same place, they are wearing the same clothes and they laugh the same laugh. When I was a sophomore in college I had a car that due to some ill-advised tinkering and my need for speed tended to leak a little oil… well actually a lot of oil, generally having to stop at least once between Des Moines and Iowa City not for gas but to add oil. In December of that year it made it one more time back to Des Moines no doubt leaving a trail down the interstate that Mr. Magoo could have followed leading directly to my greasy parking spot in the driveway. This was the same car that caused my in-laws to run out into the driveway when I left Lynn’s house and spread sand around where my car had been parked. Well back to the Christmas story, it was time to open Christmas presents and Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped a gift from my father and it was a Canadian Club box, Hey I thought, 8 year old Canadian Whiskey… “ The old man is coming around.” The weight was right it was obviously filled with something that gurgled and when I opened the box I found two quarts of Pennzoil taped together, truly one upped by my father, I remember that he laughed and laughed and laughed and so did I .
As I was wondering if others always got the same mental picture over and over again when they thought of their departed loved ones at Christmas the following words came to mind.

Every holiday
Always sits a chair
In which no one rests.
But all who are there
May see sitting fair
Someone different.
But yet all the same
Missed and loved

About safrisri

I was a school teacher until retirement. I have taught at all educational levels from pre-school to college. My college degree is general science which I arrived at after 5 years and 5 different majors. A degree as it turns out, almost as valuable and in demand as one in Neo-Bulgarian Mythology. I have been around education for around 40 years and can remember when teaching was a pleasant, happy and creative job and our schools were the same. Now I'm the guy sitting on the porch with an opinion on everything.
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