| 24 December 2025 0210 Hours | Mortality, Custom, Family, History, Love, Memories, Poetry, Relationship |
Every holiday she strung lights throughout a room of our home. Her last season for lights was November 2016. She died soon thereafter--I left the lights on all that year. Each year thereafter, the lights remained on in remembrance. One November, almost to the day, nine years later, The lights dimmed to darkness. The nights now are as deceased as the decorator herself.