I stand staring at the store shelves,
wondering what you’d like.
Wondering if I’ll get to see your face
brighten when you tear the decorative paper away
or if it will be another apology,
another excuse.

Memories drift through me
of laying on the living room carpet
in soft, fleece pajamas,
coloring pages in front of the fire,
hot cocoa piled high with whipped cream,
and whispers passed from top bunk to bottom
with hushed excitement,
waiting for everyone to wake up.

But now, beneath the cool electric lights,
I stare at the almost empty shelves
Wondering
If you miss me, too.