I've had the "Sounds of the Season" radio station on all evening.  An instrumental version of I'll Be Home For Christmas was on and I was singing along.  The music was in an octave or two higher than my usual range so I was concentrating on hitting the high notes.  I was heading into the kitchen and heard Tootsie the dog following.  Turning around to see where she was, I caught sight of the family photo and Dad's smiling face and I suddenly burst into tears.

This is our first Christmas without Dad, who died in March. I was singing "I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams" when the meaning of those last few word suddenly hit me. Although I have mementos, the most valuable thing I have from Dad are memories. Not really any specific Christmas memories, as our family was pretty low key about the holiday, but general things.  Like when he used to bring me Texas bluebonnet flowers when I was around six years old. There was a vacant field between his place of work and home, and when the bluebonnets bloomed he would stop on his way home and pick me a bunch as they were my favorite flowers. Or when he tried teaching me how to throw a football, when he showed me how to throw a punch (he was a Golden Gloves boxer as a child), or the hours we used to spend gardening.  Dad loved breaking up the soil prior to planting, and it was my job to pick out the rocks and clumps of grass.

My memories are of those little every day activities that seemed so mundane back then but now have a value that is beyond what can be estimated.  Dad WILL be home for Christmas, even if only in my dreams.  I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to that song again without shedding a tear.