I was furious when I opened David’s present under the tree. “Melisse, look and see what is in your package from David.” Yep, two bottles of wine, one “Bitch” the other “Ball Buster.” In case there are any children reading this, I can’t repeat what I said next. Only that Melisse covered her kids’ ears and my mom rolled herself into her bedroom crying. “He said they are really good bottles of wine.” She actually knew about it.  Can you believe that?  David has always been Mom and Dad’s favorite and I had to make a split second decision. Christmas was riding on it.

I followed Mom into her bedroom. I got down on my knees so that I was at eye level with her in her wheel chair. “Mom, I beg you to stop crying and come back into the living room so the little girls can open their presents. It’s all my fault, I know he was just trying to be funny. It’s my fault, I don’t understand his sense of humor.” I wanted to vomit.

She finally stopped crying and wheeled herself back into the living room and we all finished our happy, little, family Christmas. The girls opened their American Girl dolls and assorted paraphernalia. Peace had been restored. Afterwards, Rick and I grabbed our bottles and went back to the Peabody Hotel where we were staying.  In those days I was prone to drowning my sorrows. Well, mom got one thing right, that wine did taste pretty damn good. And that was it.  The final Christmas.  Mom died the next year.