Pale sun
lights the waning December afternoon,
presents bought, but still unwrapped...
The house is for sale,
by either the bank or the tax man...
Your oldest girl just turned 35...
I know you never liked the season,
in fact, you were Mr. Bah Humbug himself...
we suffered somewhat from that.
My children and I are all together this holiday season,
it has been a long time...
You will be missed by some,
others, not
My hope is, that wherever your soul is
You will at last enjoy this season
of good tidings and good will
and accept it for what it is
Rest in peace my once husband.
Shellie Sands
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