#140w
I'm taking the mini Christmas tree from the
corridor closet, the lights are still in. Wipe some dust off the old
box of christmas cards, baubles, and christmas bells. Game the names
of the senders on the cards. And I sigh. It's no longer there, and
that also. A lot of people want to grow old, but being old is not
nice. Musing, I think back to the cozy Christmas time, already
my friends were still there. When my husband was alive. We didn't
the happiness on children. Slowly I expand the tree sprigs. The
mailman has been passing my house for years. I hang the old yellowed
christmas cards on the thread and read the messages. This one is from 1994.
Oh well, that Jan. and Coby. 97 am I now, everything is in lockdown, the
sisters are in a hurry. Staff shortage. But I don't have to complain.

A New Ticket at Christmas?


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