The Crooked Star
|With so many memories, I ran out of tissues.|
"Would it be okay if I sat here and watched you two decorate the tree?"
|The actual tree from Dec 5th, 2011.|
"The lights are supposed to go on first and inside the branches!"
"No! Put the tinsel up first!"
"He's right, the star is crooked, move it to the left!"
"Cut the stem because it's gonna start to limp!"
"It's fine! Just plug it in already!"
|Dad always dressing up as Santa.|
Christmas is still as beautiful as can be...it's just different.
I met an old friend the other day in the supermarket. I hadn't seen in him like 20+ years or so. He asked how I was doing and then started reminiscing about my father. He said, "Oh wow, I remember coming to your house and your father feeding me this enormous plate of food that was so delicious, I nearly rolled out of there! He was great!" I didn't tell him anything and just smiled. I pictured it too. Both my parents always did the same thing -- fed you till you couldn't breathe. I think most Italians tend to do that to make you feel welcomed. I have come across quite a few people who remember Dad and 99% of the time, I don't say anything, unless they ask, "So how is he?"
|The best team ever.|
So yeah, December 5th. I remember it well. I think I always will. I remember him sipping his Bailey's and making fun of us while we trimmed the tree. "Ugh God! You two are crazy, you know dat'?"
He'll always be missed. I'll make sure the star isn't crooked this year, Dad.
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