Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
I remember decades ago crawling into cozy flannel covers and down comforters and waiting for Santa.
I remember when family felt more like family.
When Christmas felt like an escape.
I don’t wish Santa was real those Christmases past.
But I wish that family warmth was. The only day it felt real.
Laughs and Lobotomies 