How then the procession of hours, until this day was done? Early in the dark morning, with Laura taking Julia to work, that full roundness of moon beaconed for pictures, especially as the sky turned pink, periwinkle blue and lavender, and the moon floated over the low mountains. How many professional photographers were out then at sunrise, capturing that moon over differing vistas? How many amateurs? Too sleepy earlier to think of the camera, I wasn't one of them.

To exercise or not? Laura's brother and wife were coming later this morning to visit. We put it off another day. We each took to our computers until they arrived. In my sleepless hours the night before, I envisioned how I wanted my archive page to look. The twin faces of happiness and sadness at the center of a deep red curtain, with each month's set appearing underneath would be a refreshing change. Surprisingly, Printmaster had the exact image and needed very little modification. I'd save K by making a table to fit the image, using it as background, and superimposing print over the background. Of course it varies some in appearence if smaller or larger text is used. But a faster load and saving K are worth it. I'd just made the larger and smaller curtain versions when Greg and Teresa arrived.

Slender Teresa looked the same as always. Greg sported very long hair and seemed like he'd lost weight. I hadn't noticed all the wrinkles around his eyes before, however. It's hard to believe he's only three years older than I. They came bearing pictures of daughter Sharon's wedding, son George's daughter and a camping trip. We all sat over in Mother's cosy living room. Glen disappeared into the other room with some pictures for scanning. I was surprised at how well his new scanner captured details and even enlargements were clear. His printer can also make glossy prints that appear professional. We've since given up on that horrid color printer, giving it to James, and have only the black and white.

Later, they joined us in our living room. Laura got through the morning with no tears. The days are getting easier. After they left, several customers came to pick up their items. We made time for some afternoon delight, despite the hustle and bustle. Then it was time to get Julia. She came out of work happy, bearing an armload of gifts she'd received. A silver teddy bear dressed in blue, with a blue "Happy Millenium" mug, a picture frame with ancient Egyptian columns (the gifter knew Julia's interests), some soap and lotions, she had quite a load.

We thought we'd entertain ourselves with movies this weekend. Wild, Wild, West was visually interesting, but the dizzy plot wasn't enough to keep me awake. I woke up long enough to assemble Laura's pills for tomorrow, and then hit the inviting bed.

My Dad and I, Christmas 1967

I wish I could remember that Christmas of 1967. I can remember that plaid skirt I had. It was an acrylic/wool blend, so it was soft and not scratchy. I liked its 'warm, clear tones' that even before I knew I was a 'spring', I knew were my best colors. But I can't remember that Christmas. I tried really hard to come up with one decent, fairly fleshed out childhood memory, and I can't even much do that. They've all just melted and blurred together to make a warm glow when ever I think about being a child at Christmas. From childhood on I've always been enchanted with the way the world transforms into a wonderland at this time of year. I loved each and every Christmas tree we ever had. We'd always get live ones, and the day after New Year's, I'd be heartbroken each year when Dad chopped the tree apart for the trash collection. I always saved a small branch from each tree, though. Somewhere I may even still have that small collection packed away.

When I was about ten, maybe nine, it could be the Christmas in the picture, I got a three foot high silver tinsel tree. I kept it up until Easter. February I put red hearts on it. Easter probably saw cut out eggs attached to it. Then with a long stretch of no holidays, I couldn't think of how to decorate it, and so packed it away.

I do remember the best ever Christmas present. It was a microscope. I put everything on the rectangular glass pieces for observation, strands of hair, which are surprisingly hollow, snots, bug guts, dust particles, anything I could find that would fit. Another favorite was a mechanical device with all sorts of cogs I could put in it. It allowed me to make elaborate designs resembling odd flowers. SPIROGRAPH, that's what it was called. And there was plastigoop. I had several molds which I'd fill with various colored 'goops'. I'd bake them in the oven, oh, it made an awful smell, and soon I'd have cool things, rubbery flowers, bugs, bumply swatches; it was fun. Maybe I remember more than I thought I did. I'll ponder and see if I can pull up more from the memory banks.

I woke up Christmas morning with an odd feeling I didn't want to get out of bed, Just let me sleep until after New Year's. Despite lack of Christmas spirit, I did get up, for a busy day awaited us.

Julia's Mother and brother had flown in and were going to pick her up around noon, so we scheduled dinner for 11:00am. Shayna was to have made lasagna, so, none of us possessing that skill, we brought heat and eat lasagna, both vegetable and meat filled. Julia cooked fresh salmon, and Serena brought potato salad she'd made. We had quite a feast, and I was too full for pie.

Laura fled the camera eye, and neither Julia nor I were very photogenic. But we did get some good pictures of Paul, Shayna's brother, Serena and Richard.

     

Conversation did turn often to the missing member.

Shayna's Christmas ornament

Unlike so many other Christmas's which have faded in my memory, this one will likely stay clear and sharp-edged.

The ill-fated pole

Shayna's brother Paul put this little tree at the pole where Shayna met her end. This morning we added the wreath our neighbors had given us nearby, with an attached letter about Shayna, and a warning to all other drivers to be careful. Who will read it, and how long it will be there before the winds tear it away, who can say? If it makes one person think, it will be worth it. The debris of glass and plastic pieces of the car give further evidence to what transpired there.

But mostly the visit was for us. We said good bye one more time, and then headed back home. Laura had dressed in black, and wore her cape, as she knew Shayna would have liked that. They often expressed themselves in terms of a vampire mythos. Laura the elder vampire would take the fledging under her arms. But that's all done, now.

All that's left are the memories. Still, perhaps, they will last, and have a little more immortality. Bloodless, now, but with an untouchable, unchangeable kind of perfection. What's done is done.

And we the living remain. That's the way the cycle always repeats. Until the day the sun goes supernova, that's the way the cycle always will repeat. For a brief hour, is our time upon the stage. Then new players make their entrance. And what's left of us will be these dwindling puffs of memory.

But maybe, just maybe, there will be more.

Laura, the vampyre . . .