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Christmas just isn't the same as it was when Grandma was still alive. In my memories the lights are much softer and hazy than they really were, and everyones laughter is more like chiming bells, and Grandma's lasagnia was homemade. Its funny how we idealize memories to fit our needs. I miss her so much. Since her death the lights are sharp, the laughter hollow, and we don't even have lasagnia anymore. I've become a scrooge. I'm sure she wouldn't want me to feel this way.
