Christmas, 2017

Well, it's Christmas, 2020 — our third Christmas without each other, so the math says our last Christmas together was 2017. I don't remember anything specific about that day three years ago, but Stephanie was with me and she wasn't in a hospital, so it must've been a terrific Christmas.

She made ham roll-ups, same as she did every Christmas, and I ate most of them.

We had twinkly lights on a tiny tree.

We went for a walk to look at the megawatt lights on that house on Upham Street, or we went for a drive to see the lights at Olin Park, or both. 

We watched an old movie together. 

She made something really quite good for dinner, and she (mistakenly) thought it wasn't quite as good as it should've been. 

We talked about everything in the universe, and we laughed a lot.

That was our last Christmas, 2017 — just another delightful Christmas with a delightful lady.

This year's Christmas won't be delightful, but the memories always will be. Merry Christmas, Stephanie, and thank you again.