The silence is deafening on this unseasonably warm, pre dawn Christmas morn. A morning in which I am fast asleep, then abruptly awake. The transitional stage from soothing slumber to befuddled consciousness has somehow been stolen. As my thoughts begin to collect themselves I realize something else is missing....
Dad.
Dad will not be a part of this festive day for the first time in this writer's life. Awareness of similar occurrences experienced by countless others does little to ease the sense of loss. No words or philosophical profession will suffice.
Memories of Dad are now prized possessions. I count them up like the colorfully adorned presents tucked under a glistening Christmas tree.
Maybe today as you open your gifts from friends and loved ones you too will you unwrap fond memories of Christmases past.
Dad would have liked that.
