December 23, 2003 Merry Christmas, Sweetheart! Well, another first in the annals of our years together- a Christmas apart. I'm so thankful, though, that you'll be home in less than one month. Right now, though, it's hard not to remember and think about all the holidays we've shared. After this year, I'll never take the blessing of your company for granted again. You should be so proud, John, of the remarkable way you have provided for your family. I cannot recall a single time when we didn't have more than enough in the way of "creature comforts." There were so many years when folks all around us were struggling financially but you always strengthened your resolve to meet the expenses that our family incurred. And always - always - without a single complaint or protest. We were your family, your responsibility, and you took care of us regardless of what was occurring all around us. We had our share of pinto beans (june-gers, Paul always called them) and - as I recall - enjoyed those pintos thoroughly! Even more, though, you've always been lavish in your supplies of love, patience, serenity, diplomacy, wit and wisdom. I am still awed by your gift to make things right, regardless of how tangled or difficult they seem to be. I've become so spoiled, over the years, because your talents and skills have managed - almost magically, it seems - to pacify even the most frantic of us (that would be me). I thank God that your expertise in this arena has been invaluable to our children as well. Ray, Amy, and Paul have had the benefit of a whirling dervish (me) and a solid rock (you). You-re my rock, too. I've thought so much, lately, of how much there is of the "unknown" when you marry someone: you don't really know how that person will evolve. Will he or she become weird (a bunko freak, or a Civil War re-enactment fan)? Will he or she become enormously overweight or become self-righteously abstentious of calories? Will he or she devote his or her life exclusively to a career? Or to tv? Will he or she have numerous automobile mishaps, none overly-serious...oops - forget that last one. But does that make any sense at all? I mean, I couldn't know, twenty-three years ago, that you become even smarter, funnier, sexier, and more handsome. Nor could I know or envision that I would love you even more now than I did then. I can't imagine not loving you, John, not having you at the very center of my universe. I feel sorry for everyone who has not been as wildly happy as I have been - and am. If the Lord were to call me home tonight, John, I would still have had the richest, fullest, most marvelous life imaginable - and it was all because of you. All my love for all of time, Bev

Dear Dad, Here are some of the things I remember about Christmas: � decorating our Christmas tree � yelling "September" when the Christmas trees fell � the Christmas Ray got a Nintendo � telling that lady her house "stank" � the Christmas candy cane song Dad! I got my driver's license today! I wish you could be home with us at Christmas! Love, Paul

Hey dad! Ray here, and I wanted to tell ya that i love you. About christmas memories, Amy dragged out the classic christmas tape. I've gotta admit, that gets better every year. :) That's one of the things I remember most about christmas, getting together and watching that. The other thing I really remember about christmas is all the great food. This year we'll have ham AND turkey, not to mention all of the other nice things (aka Pumpkin pie). Heh, on a related note, remember that time I loaded up my plate with all that ham and ate it all? THAT"S definitely a memory that will last me through the years. Also, while it's not just a christmas memory, I remember how Pop always had those little gadgets, especially that squirt camera. I'm not sure if you saw it, but suffice it to say, I ended up wet, TWICE!

Amy's five things: 1. Never being able to sleep on Christmas Eve due to uninformative clues on my presents. 2. Watching baby videos of our past Christmases and seeing how none of us - Ray's lovingness, my grumpiness, Paul's what-am-I-doing-again?-ness- have really changed. 3. Despising Christmas Eve services and everyone being in a not so cheery mood after attending, either due to being forced to go or being forced to listen to the incessant complaining. 4. Finding the perfect Christmas tree and making it our own. 5. Christmas lights. Whether they were twinkling from right beneath our roof or choking the trunk of our lone front lawn tree, they have always been something that reminds me of You. These are just a few of my favorite memories of Christmas, Dad. Every Christmas has been filled with millions of laughs, hugs, and gifts. Each has had its fair share of present-shaking, candle-lighting, and song singing. Even while you're not here with us physically, these traditions continue and will remain until you can come back to resume your position as the singer of songs to Otto, the love interest of Jackie, the turkey cutter, the lover of Mom's gruel, the Schpleen, my Bruce. We love you so so much; thank you for your love, hard work, and determination. I miss you and cannot wait until you come back. Here's to many more wonderful wintery wonder December 25ths. :)