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This poem speaks for itself. It was written during the Christmas season, just before the first anniversary of my father’s death. Although a bit sad, it reminds us of what is really important in life.

I’ll be home for Christmas or so the story goes

repeats year after year.

Regardless of the weather or holiday traffic,

you will find your way home clean and clear.

Christmas is one of the times that we are together

we smile and talk and eat.

At the end of the day, we are all stuffed to the guts.

And it’s hard for me to even see our feet!

We always meet at home and sit around the tree

the tradition has been going on for years.

Catch up on the news and what’s going on with us,

and laugh until our eyes fill with tears.

Then we open our presents and show what we have

what the paper and the ties have hidden.

It’s the only time of year that we can let our guard down

and behave like a child once more.

Sometimes we’ll do fireworks or rock on the porch

the weather determines our game.

If the temperature is too cold or the sky is full of rain,

Today other fun things have been done.

Like talking some more or drinking some Joe

Or think of times that are gone

This day reminds us that if we are not together

then we’ll never be alone.

Finally, late at night, when everything calms down,

we load our cars and go.

But the memories we make each Christmas day

They are memories that we will always keep.

Now forward your thought to Christmas that is here,

this year is not like before.

Because you ran away last January

your presence is no longer with us.

You won’t be home for Christmas this year or next

only memories to share on this day.

And instead of laughing and catching up on the news,

We find that the words have become difficult to say.

But we want to enjoy it, this time we are together

we want to inhale every sight.

We are reminded of how precious each Christmas day is

from the extinguishing of the light of your spirit.

It seems something strange, and also so strange,

act like nothing has changed.

When we all must admit in our own unique way,

that our lives have now been rearranged.

We still talk, laugh and share a great meal together.

all the turkey, the treats and so on.

Yet everything seems so different and somehow it’s not right,

All these things that we once loved so much

Cause you won’t be home this Christmas, that’s how it goes

it will be repeated now year after year.

And things like the weather and holiday traffic,

it has nothing to do with joy.

They will not hinder you, they will not delay you,

Because you won’t even be here at all

It does not matter our longing or even our desire,

You’ll never answer our call

Can Christmas be the same as that of yesteryear?

Will the pain of your absence not cease?

We can only imagine and hope for the future,

that your life really ended in peace.

So even though he won’t be home for Christmas, we sure will.

Despite the pain and our loss

For the sadness we feel if we fail to connect

it won’t justify the great cost.

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