Christmas Day. The light begins to fail within this living mausoleum of recent memories wherein my parents lived and spent their final years. I worship the shadows of my past going through the old pictures to choral music celebrating life. The small tree bearing the fruit of artifacts come direct of my mother’s hand. I look through albums that I might have exhumed in her final months when I could have found out more about her. The light settles and leaks out of the room and is replaced by the quiet glow of the family totem beside me. I wonder how long the present arrangement will last? Moment to moment I feel that I am waiting. To fall into that timeless state that brings me back to so many moments that are now eternal. I see them both within this new light. Young and beautiful in youth and old and serene in latter age. The map of the apparent secrets of their lives spread out before me in fading silver on small squares of brittle paper. Where as in my dreams they come to visit from that place removed by time and space where they were as enduring as the assurance of an unending number of ceaseless days. Now that wine is spilled and gone. The illusion broken that once whispered to me that I have some special claim to life eternal. So much taken for granted over most of my life now beyond precious. Each moment passes and I hope to awaken somewhere back then with this same feeling of love welling up that my heart was once incapable of expressing. Wherein I should feel simply sad I feel lucky to have known so much of what I now so desperately miss. I will not perish from the absence of this bittersweet pain but live on within the perpetual glow of all those more than passing memories. They live within me still as I will always continue to live with them. Merry Christmas!