Bringing the Misfits Home
A Sentimental Christmas Memory

we embrace every relative
     load up the wagon, pack in tight and leap onto the highway
Staten Island to New Jersey
     chrome steeds try galloping past our Country Squire, but Dad fantasizes he’s lead stallion
from the rear-facing seat, I watch the mesmerizing herd of headlights
      trail farther and farther behind       
no other man (driving 90 miles an hour) will ever replace this depth of faith
     my fierce childhood possession, always

into the cold, dark Jersey night, we arrive home
       the V-8 shudders, the presents cushioning our sleepy heads rattle
       my little sister’s pigtails shift on my shoulder, I shake the bones to wake us up     
Tima’s barking gnaws the sleep crust from our eyes
        while we unpack every last ounce of Italian cheer and clamp our gifts
       beneath all available arms
my brothers, sisters and I march like weary soldiers across the snowy lawn  
       we trudge up the brick stoop and into our warm home
pajamas quickly managed, we mime brushing our teeth

       Mom tucks us in and kisses our cheeks with her smile brighter than winter
I surround myself with stuffed animals, swaddle in blankets
       and stare out my bedroom window to search for the blazing star of my picture books
      (I’ll later learn that I’d been praying to Venus all along)

tomorrow, like clockwork, Emile will stop at the corner of our street
       yell out in his mildly, terrified mailman voice, “WHERE’S TIMA?”
one of us will step into the cold to coax our hefty German shepherd
      away from her favorite place on the front stoop to bring her inside
      and just like that, Christmas is officially over

(Opening image, 1980 – Christmas Tree)
(Image directly above, 1980 – my little brother, Vito, me and our goofy shepherd, Rosie
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find an image of our childhood shepherd, Tima, a much more serious-minded shepherd )

Hope you’re all doing well ❤️
am:)