On Christmas, we talk of my parent's ghost. Everyone has a story of it. I have never seen it or they since some see a man and some a child. I do remember the time my brother and sister saw it and the whole family went crazy in the middle of the night because they thought it was a man in the house. My father tried to arm us all with knives and bats and even a gun. I just got up and locked my bedroom door.

Now my sister has stories of the ghosts saying "hi" to her or just walking around the house in the middle of the night. It makes me think that maybe 50 years from now ghosts will be like the solar system. Like we didn't used to know it was there, but science proved there are all these planets and such. Science will someday prove that ghosts, too, are all around us. I sound like a crazy, but I don't really believe in ghosts. I just like the idea. I will believe it when science tells me about it when I am old. I will be 70 and Anya's daughter will tell me about how ghosts work and that they are just energy left over from us when we die and how in the old days no one could see them. I will tell her about Aunt Lisa and how she could. My grand daughter will promise to look for me after I die. Look for my left over energy. I will be a grandma ghost and no one will be afraid of this because science tells them it is perfectly normal. Someday we will all be ghosts and it will be ok.

On Christmas, I see my brother who has been away. Moved away, far. He is less like a ghost that I think he will be. He is the same as before and I am fond of this. He doesn't have the special ghost powers of my sister and I think he is ok with this. What ya going to do, ya know? Someday they will teach it in school. How Ghosts Work or Seeing Ghosts 101. You won't need John Edward or any of those tv ghost chats.

On Christmas, I see ornaments on the tree that my grandfather made and I remember that he is dead and has been so for some time. He is such a big personality in my mind that I often forget this fact. That he is indeed dead. That is a very nice compliment, I think as I pass my fingers over a little wooden sleigh. I also think of my grandmother, Margie, and how she is actually alive, even though I often forget this fact. This is not a slight. She has forgotten herself for sometime, I think. My brother gives me pictures of me and the girls at his wedding and I see Margie in my face. I see her in my shoulders and how heavy I am. This doesn't make me sad because she was always a big woman and I loved that about her. I loved her physical presence. When she got old and frail, I would hug her and miss the her of my youth. How I miss her so. I vow to take my girls to see her before she becomes a ghost. Even if it is hard. Even if she doesn't know me anymore. Even if she calls me Sally, her mother's name. I whisper a little promise.

On Christmas, we talk of ghosts. I don't mind this because we are at this place in our lives. Remembering rather than living new. It is ok to be this way for one Christmas. But we must not stay here. We must make new memories and stop looking after old ones.