Merry Christmas

December 22, 2013


Dear Santa,

I dreamed of the aluminum Christmas tree we always had in our one bedroom duplex in Dallas, Texas. The one that replaced real white pines each year we could not have, because this middle child was allergic. Somehow mom managed to cover that entire thing with what they now call vintage plastic (cheap M.E. Moses ornaments) round and oblong things; color on the back and clear plastic to view inside sparkly designs. Maybe I remember sitting on the floor staring up at it as the string of lights lighting up the entire room, even my small body. Maybe, because there was a picture of me staring up at it on the small table my father made for me; just my size formica green with glitter set in, and four welded u-shaped legs. And because it set up there, bigger than life, while I was down on the hardwood floor smiling as if the whole experience made me giddy. No, I was not happy. I was squinting. Because, I could barely see it. I was half blind, me age two with my cat eye glasses. One day I was going to mature and realize that damn thing was only two feet high, and not the big elaborate consciousness kids believed in. Maybe it had already begun and someone captured it on film December 22nd, 1963.


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