Tommy and Jack's First Home Visit With Santa

It was December of 2004, and I was extremely sick and worried I would not be home for Christmas at all that year.

My oncologist and his office brought in a small tree and made a visit shortly before Christmas, and the chances were still quite small it would work.

There was not only the weakness of having been in the hospital for 30 days after a series of severe infections, but one in particular was a staff infection, and to make matters worse, a local doctor took a skin sample near the wound on my chest, where the chemo lines had been.

That particular doctor was more than strange, even more than eccentric. You would seem him walking in town in his grey suit and galoshes ala 1950. No doubt about it, the man was one of those strange people, who wander about the world.

I think my oncologist assumed he was a strange genius, but this dermatologist took out a section of skin the size of my thumbnail, which was dangerous, considering that I was on blood thinner.

I bled for days. At one point, my oncologist and is wife, who was a PA in the clinic, spoke softly, but I heard them.

"I don't know what we're going to do. He is losing blood as fast as we can give transfusions."

The interesting thing was that my doctor dreamt that night about how and what to use to bandage the wound and stop the bleeding. It worked, and it was just another one of the miracles in the final days of 2004 and early 2005.

But the worst part was missing so much of Christmas, even though my doctor cleared me to go home on Christmas Eve.

I missed this dinner my family had in Malad, where Santa Claus paid grandchildren and great-grandchildren a visit.

For Tommy and Jack, this was monumental, even though they probably don't remember anything about this visit.

But thanks to Kristin, we have pictures.

It was a dark time at that point, but it was the beginning of my return to normalcy, even though it involved another brief hospital stay after I boarded the "crazy train" for a brief trip to "LaLa Land." That happened in January.

Nothing helps a person survive like realizing how badly you want to stay with a wife and sweetheart, with children, and with grandchildren.

I had this morbid fear, that my grandchildren would never remember me. Not only that, Anna would not be born until the next July.

Life is fragile. Life is an incredible blessing. I savor every day and every moment.

Granted, a person can relive certain things vicariously through pictures that remind you of events and "life moments," but it's not really the same, except when you weren't there and you have no other choice.

I won't complain. I love these pictures of my Jack and my Tommy basking in their first Christmas.