Christmas is a little rougher than usual this year because Mom is gone. It was her favorite time of year and she used to love her Christmas tree. It would hurt your eyes just to look at it. She had a ton of motorized ornaments. Santa fishing, Santa in a hot air balloon, a bunch of elves banging on bells playing Christmas music. My best memories of Christmas and my Mom come from going to get a live Christmas tree. It was always a pain in the ass when I was little, but now I remember wondering the lot with Mom, looking for the perfect tree. The smell of pine, the cold chill in the air. Dad was always there, grumbling like he didn't like fooling with it, but he would put on his old work gloves and pull out tree after tree and turn them so Mom could make sure all sides were perfect. We'd bring the tree home and Mom would spend hours making it just so. I miss Mom now more than ever even though it's been twenty years since she had a live tree and at least ten since we really shared a Christmas together.
Merry Christmas Mom.
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