‘Twas the night before chemo, when all through the house,
None of our dogs were stirring, maybe if they saw a mouse.
My bags were all packed by the front door with care,
In hopes of my last treatment that soon would be here.
Gia was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of needles stormed through my head.
And David in his pajamas, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long night’s nap.
Well…you know the rest. But for us, St. Nick will not be appearing on our lawn with a clatter nor will Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen.
Instead, we will savor the moments that are tied to closing a chimney while we open a window. And maybe, just maybe, St. Nick will find a way in and leave something special in our stockings this year. After all, who couldn’t use more gifts of love, peace and hope in their life!