He will be home alone for Christmas this year. At first he was scheduled to work, and I thought, "Well, OK, he can deliver Christmas babies to happy parents! And enjoy the comraderie of his friends at work. It will make the holiday a good day." Then he learned he would not be working on the 25th. He works the 24th and 26th, though, so he can't make it home to see us, anyway. . . but there's a package in the mail for him with a stuffed Christmas stocking. I hope he likes it. As well as the other two items in the box.
I hope he'll go to dinner with someone. I hate to think of him alone on Christmas of all days.
But it could be much, much worse. He could be deployed in a faraway, unfriendly country, where Christmas cheer is hard to find. He could be in harm's way. For his safety, I am grateful.
This picture was taken when he was 18 months old. His younger brother was born about a week earlier, on December 10th. Upon seeing the baby, he uttered his first sentence, "Baby cry." His older cousins came to help me decorate the tree and they decorated Kevin, too. I treasure this picture and the memories of Christmas past.
Now he has some letters behind his name, including B.S., M.A., and M.D. But to me he's still a wide-eyed little guy in pajamas with feet.
Merry Christmas, Kevin. Love you always.
Mom and Dad
and . . . . because he speaks Spanish every day . . .
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