A Christmas Story

         Cold December morning just after Christmas. Billy was glad to see the roadways were plowed as he pulled into the cemetery. It had snowed Christmas day and he hoped he wouldn't have to walk too far though the snow to get to his father’s grave.

         “Hard to believe its been almost three years now.” Billy said to himself as he got out
of his car. “Two years and six months,” He corrected himself.

         Billy wiped the snow from his father’s stone and put the flowers down. He thought how things were this time of year when he was young.

         Billy's father loved Christmas, but more importantly, he loved to have all his family and friends there, a house so full of people and love, it could burst. He'd find the biggest, tallest tree and put it in the living room, taking days to decorate it so that it was just perfect. colorful electrictrains ran continuously around the tree's enormous trunk, carrying tiny wrapped gifts and candy to any who wished to take them. A massive wreath hung on the front door as a warm welcome to all who entered, and a life size manger scene stood proudly on the front lawn, each figure illuminated in a heavenly glow of white Christmas lights. The whole family would be together and that, by far, was his father's greatest gift.

         The Christmas that dad dressed up as Santa for the grandchildren, came to mind. Billy’s father had a full white beard, but he was very thin. The pillow kept popping out from his Santa coat and falling on the floor. Billy snickered at the thought, but held in his laughter because of where he
was.

         That was the year Billy gave his father the camcorder. Billy will never forget the look on his face when he open the present and saw the camcorder.He always wanted one, but every time he looked at them at Sears he would say, “Some day I would like to have one of these, but they cost so much.”

         As far back as he could remember his father would use the movie camera to film the family opening their presents on Christmas morning, and on New Years Day they would sit and watch the movies on his father’s super 8 projector. That year they didn’t have to wait, he just popped out the tape and put it in the VCR.


         After they had finished watching the video Billy’s father took the camcorder to record the kids riding on the new sleds they got for Christmas. He was out there for what seemed like hours and when Billy’s mother called them in for dinner, he was blue from the cold. “I’ll play the video of the kids with their sleds after dinner, Dear,” he said as he sat in his chair at the dinner table.

         When Mom placed the turkey on the table he would proclaim it to be the best dinner she had ever cooked.

         “You say that every year!” Mom would say.

         “And every year you top your self.” Lifting his glass of eggnog he said, “To your mother, kids, for preparing this wonderful feast!”



         “Merry Christmas!” Billy heard his father say as clearly as if he were standing there next to him. Billy turned to look, but, of course, he was not there. That happens often Billy would be in a place that he and his father would have gone together often and he could swear he could feel his presence there.

         “Merry Christmas,Dad,” Billy replied to the voice in his head.