Too much food, too many gifts and too much fun

When I was a kid, I wrote in my diary almost daily. I recorded every minute detail. The Christmas entry was especially lengthy, listing each and every thing I received and who gifted it to me. Now it's all a blur and I barely remember anything about the holidays, so when I sit down to write about Christmas 2005, I can't summon up one clear event.

I remember tiny bits, as if they are pieces of a puzzle that was my life the past few days. What I do recall clearly and specifically is my nephew, Prince E. I remember the smell of his hair as he sat in the chair with me while we played games Christmas Eve. I recall his grin as he opened his Ipod. I can still hear his giggle as he got tickled after finding a thong in someone's stocking. I can still feel him leaning against me in church and hear him singing carols as we shared the bulletin.

Forever, he will be frozen that way for me. That ten-year-old tan little boy will always be a part of my Christmas memories and my life (whether he likes it or not).