My Fatherly Duty

The time has come.  Christmas vacation!  This time of year usually filled with the mirth and excitement of gift giving and receiving, Secret Santas, fully-decked halls and Christmas trees.  The sounds of Bing Crosby and Perry Como on the airwaves recall times past and can make you feel, for a minute, that you are living amongst the crooners.  Smells of traditional foods waft through neighborhoods and houses, and we can feel free to let loose and indulge in the goodies, along with letting loose he top buttons of our pants.  This year has been no different in most cases.  My annual Christmas party with my brother and close inner circle of friends has already happened (Titled 'Christmas - Patient Zero' this year). My traditional pork pies, or tourtiere for all you French-Canadians, have already been made and enjoyed.  Eggnog has flowed freely, as have numerous other festive libations.  Presents have been bought, wrapped, and exchanged, and some are still awaiting Christmas day and celebrations with in-laws this weekend. Our Christmas tree is tall and proud, and displays the finest ornaments from throughout my wife Elizabeth's and my own childhood. This year, however, there is a big difference that becomes more real every day.

Baby.