I ponder now, to the years ago,
To what came on every Christmas Eve.
About the gift that I could get,
The perfect gift to have or to receive.

I was only seven, many fleeting years ago,
And I loved all kinds of dessert.
So then, to get the perfect gift,
A chocolate cake was all its worth.

I was asked at 12 to choose my gift
And a new typewriter was all I said.
At a time when technology had once been young,
I was pleased with mine, a branded crimson red.

12 more years passed by and I could not find
A better gift than what I got years ago in my life.
At 40, I celebrate the 8th anniversary
Of the lovey-dovey years I that I spent with my wife.

I'm 55 and weeping, for now both my parents are gone.
My dad just died a week ago, at the ripe age of 83.
If time was a gift, I'd give it to those I love.
Christmas just isn't as complete as it used to be.

It's Christmas yet I'm dying, and loved-ones use the tongue of tears.
My final wish would only be to have my whole life encoded in memory;
For memories are all that I can leave, and all that I could bring,
From all the blessed 86 years-God's own Christmas gift to me.