Sitting back in the rocker, the older man looked out the window.  The vivid memory, as a boy, running to the front door of the house he had grown up in.  Remembering the windows steaming, as his mother cooked a large dinner.  Then immediately seeing himself watching Saturday morning television that consisted of Howdy Doody, Skyking, Annie Oakley and some Flash Gordan.

A pain in the small of his back, made his mind return to the rocking chair.  “What will become of me?” He thought,  as the present day was also swiftly fleeting into the past, that would promise not to be as memorable.

Looking back through the window at the falling snow, He thought of Christmas past.  He always awoke early to see an assortment of toys and Bikes, wrapped presents as well. All for himself and his younger sister.  “Mom, Dad; wake up!”

His eyes began to water, seeing his mother and father again in his daydream.  His mind transported to an earlier time of Christmas plays and peanut butter fudge.  The laughter of Aunts and Uncles filling the house before a Christmas Eve dinner.

“Why do good dreams torment me?”  The seasonal music from the other room played “White Christmas.”   He could see how this season would be able to bring such sadness as well.  “I’m so glad I’m a believer in Christ, the true reason for Christmas.”

He gazed again out the window, looking up and down the street. He wondered if any young children would be outside now, making their memories. Tears began to pour to his lips. The music now played “I’ll be home for Christmas.”  This morning, he wanted to be home again, waking his mom and dad.

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