The Only Part of Christmas That I Remember

These days
even this early in November
you can’t escape the Christmas season
that seems to start earlier each year.
Not my time of year
and that’s for sure.
It hasn’t been for too many seasons
to count.
Too many reasons to count as well
or so it seems.
I always manage to get through it
somehow.
Usually by just trudging on
and ignoring it best I can.
I guess I do that about a lot of things
but with Christmas
it goes to a special level
for just a bit of indifference
is not a strong enough armor.
Christmases present
are a challenge.
Ah, but not so Christmases past.
For there
the memory has mostly been wiped
clean.
Is it from the years
or something else?
I really can’t say
but when I think of those days
surrounded by family and friends
with Christmas trees
and feasts made with loving hands
of those long gone.
And, of course, the presents
in all the brightly colored wraps.
I don’t remember any of those.
Not a single present from all those years
comes to mind.
Nor can I remember a single dish,
a single dessert, or treat.
There is no memory on anything said
or really of anything done.
I just don’t remember
any of those things
from Christmases so long ago.
 But if I sit here long enough.
If I let myself search back in time
I feel a strange warmth
that radiates.
And if I listen really closely
I can still hear the laughter.
That’s all I remember.
The warmth and the laughter.
It may not be much
for all those years growing up and away;
of all those ones I loved
and those who loved me,
but it is enough.
It is enough.

Michael Mathews
November 7th 2018
Wednesday 10:36 PM
In my RV by the lake

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