I have come to the conclusion that one of my issues or problems or whatever the intellectuals would like to call it . . . is . . . . I’m always looking forward to that “Norman Rockwell” moment. You know, that perfect Christmas with the family all gathered around the tree and the kids opening each present and savoring the moment. What usually happens is that you take months to pick out all the perfect gifts and wrap them (when my kids were little in color coordinated paper – different one for each kid). Then, instead of the ooohhhhs and aaaahhhhssss you expected they rip through them like dogs finding fresh meat in a trash bin. All the work and anticipation . . . it’s over. Oh, Oh, it’s the Thanksgiving, the wonderful, holiday meal with everyone gathered around the table and being thankful for each other in the most sincere way. Nope, doesn’t happen. You cook, they eat and when you have finished in the kitchen everyone is in a food coma and not ready to gather around the piano or whatever you dreamed up in your “Norman Rockwell”, “Currier and Ives” fantasy. In the wake of my parents deaths I wanted those bonding moments where we all went through pictures and keepsakes, shared memories and appreciated each other. Well that didn’t happen either, at least not yet. I can still hope. I can still dream. Crap, hope it isn’t a nightmare.