James Friedman
The first Christmas without you, me and Granny asked the same question
What is a family but a tree?
Rooted in the past
yet ever blossoming
Some leaves will fall in autumn
Without which we will be cold
under the snow
But let us celebrate that tree
Branches bending from
Nostalgia and suffering
The colors of those leaves
Still paint my memory
But Christmas is warmth
In the midst of letting go
The gift of all we’ve had
A gift for every mom and dad
Every sister, every cousin
Every brother, Wife, and Husband
No one name will be undone
We will decorate that tree
with light and warmth
For years to come