Orange slices and Christmas

For as long as I can remember, candy orange slices have been as much a part of Christmas as the Christmas tree. In fact, when there were times that I had no tree, I always had orange slices.

That's because my Dad always loved them. I don't know when that sweet tooth developed, but Daddy introduced them to me early.

After we were both well grown, my sister Sarah and I acknowledged that we never realized we didn't have much growing up — but that through sacrifice, we never missed a thing. Along the way, when Mom would load kids in the car to go to a baseball game, she'd manage to find extra money to make sure a kid who "didn't have much" didn't have to sit and watch others eat.

But back to orange slices.

While they were within reach much of the year, it was never Christmas without orange slices. Writing this, I realize how strange that may sound to some but it was one of those things you could count on.

Daddy died in June 1989 and six months later, on Christmas morning at my sister's house in Arlington, Texas, I realized something was missing besides Daddy ... his orange slices.

I couldn't bring him back, but I made a quick trip to Walgreen's and grabbed a bag of orange slices. When I got back to my sister's, she asked where I had gone and why — and I just pulled out the bag of orange slices.

She didn't say anything, but I could tell she wished I hadn't done that ... after all, while it was our first Christmas without Daddy, it was for Mom, too.

There wasn't much conversation for a while but, after a while, things got back to as much normalcy as possible under the circumstances.

In the years since, orange slices have remained a part of Christmas, as have the memories of those years when we had little, but a Mom and Dad who were intent on our never knowing it.