November-December 1997 – I like eating until it hurts on Thanksgiving Day. I like watching the Dallas Cowboys play football. I like seeing all the people in the mall on the Friday afterwards. I like going to the Mississippi State-Ole Miss game on the Saturday after. I like the first day of December. I like the annual Christmas parade on Main St. in my hometown. I like green. I like red. I like assisting in the Christmas pageant at my church. I like watching my wife Alison direct backstage at my church Christmas play. I like seeing the camels (for real) just before they carry the wisemen into the auditorium. I like seeing my breath at night. I like breathing cool air. I like hot coffee. I like hot chocolate. I like my fake Christmas tree. I like decorating it. I like our Christmas tree ornament with 1984 on it, the year Alison and I married. I like a simple wreath on my door. I like the fancy decorations in my neighbor’s yard. I like the gaudy decorations in my other neighbor’s yard. I like driving through my sister’s neighborhood where they go all out on lights and decorations. I like my church decorated. I like wearing sweaters. I like getting cards from across the country and taping them to my office door. I like seeing New York City all adorned on television. I like hearing Alabama sing Christmas in Dixie. I like Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. I like a congregation singing Joy to the World. I like watching Home Alone. I like caroling even though I can’t sing. I like watching It’s a Wonderful Life over and over again. I like remembering Christmas as a kid. I like remembering my three late grandparents. I like Charles Dickens. I like Burl Ives. I like everybody being a little nicer. I like having some friends over to our house. I like spice tea. I like one piece of divinity candy. I like having to defrost my car windows. I like seeing greeting cards in my mailbox. I like watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on television. I like reading the poem One Solitary Life. I like seeing my aunts, uncles and cousins. I like to hear Nat King Cole sing The Christmas Song. I like seeing my three children playing with their cousins as I used to do. I like Jack Frost nipping at my nose. I like staying up late and getting the surprises out of the attic. I like waving at folks I don’t know. I like going to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve. I like my mom’s Christmas Eve lasagna and going to Holy Communion after we eat. I like dreaming about a white Christmas. I like all the stores closing on Christmas day. I like video taping Christmas morning when the children open the gifts. I like smoked turkey. I like deviled eggs. I like bowl games. I like baked apples. I like pine trees. I like exchanging gifts. I like receiving cologne. I like tinsel. I like brown grass. I like sitting by the fireplace. I like my van packed with toys. I like yellow cake with caramel icing. I like kissing Alison under the mistletoe. I like wrapping paper all over the den. I like emptying stockings even though I filled them up the night before. I like one bite of fruit cake and then I remember why I only like one bite. I like asking people what the green things are in fruit cake. I like getting out old pictures from Christmases gone by. I like watching my kids ride their new bikes. I like saying, “Do you remember the Christmas when we....” I like the weatherman saying radar has detected an unidentified flying object from the North Pole. I like my children telling me they can’t go to sleep. I like imagination. I like hearing my children laugh. I like hearing the Twelve Days of Christmas even though I don’t want any of that stuff. I like America. I like Mississippi. I like home. I love Alison, Wriley, Wesley, and Walker. I love the Christ Child who is my Risen Savior.
