Christmas, 24 years ago, would be the last one my youngest daughter would share with us before Ewing's Sarcoma would take her at the tender age of twenty. Although it was never spoken aloud, we both knew, and I spent a fortune making photo memories because this was before the miracle of digital cameras. Saving our forests should have been the noble high road, but truth is, our little artificial tree replaced a live one that had dropped all its needles two days before Christmas! My husband bought it when the girls were toddlers, I was in the hospital, and he was in charge of everything. Little did we know, then, that it would become a way of keeping him part of our future seasons, too. (He had succumbed to a different cancer six years earlier.) Although the little tree had served us well, it was time to let it go -- too many wiry limbs, too few needles. When given a chance to buy a beautiful new artificial tree for almost next to nothing, I jumped at the chance to make my daughter's last Christmas special.
