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   I’m trapped. Unable to move, I stare at the ceiling most days. Sometimes a television is left on and I watch whatever is on. Over time the shows have grown very boring. For entertainment I’m forced to rely on memories played over and over in my mind. My family and friends, who all seem to have forgotten me, never visit. I can remember holidays and vacations spent with my wife and children. My son was a mere toddler the last time I saw him. Around that time we lived in a large house with many servants. My memory is spotty. Sometimes it seems as though it was a southern mansion and at other times I remember it like it was a castle. Sometimes I get to listen to people who pass through my room and talk about their lives. Andrew will be here soon. He talks to Doc about things other than my health. I love to listen.

   “Hello, Doctor. How are you today,” Andrew asks, walking into the room.

   “I’m doing great. What about you?”

   “I couldn’t be better. We’re celebrating Kwanzaa this year. It’ll help the kids get a closer feel for their ancestry,” Andrew smiled. “We’re still celebrating Christmas. We’ll just have two holidays now.”

   “The important question is, do you get off work for both?”

   “That would be a little greedy,” Andrew said. “Maybe I’ll ask the Lieutenant. I’ll let you know how that goes.”

   “What are you doing for Christmas, Doc?” Andrew asked.

   “We’re going up to Vermont. My wife’s people live up there. We have a big Christmas celebration with a Santa, reindeer, and a sleigh.  The kids love it.”