One of my happiest memories is of the first year Tom and I were dating. It wasn't Christmas, exactly, but the last day of work before the holidays. Tom was going to spend Christmas with his mother in Upper East Tennessee and I would be with my children and family.

     Tom was 36 years old and never been married. He'd not had a Christmas tree in his home since he'd left his mother's house at 18. So, the week before, I'd decorated a small tree for him on a table with some of the Christmas cards he'd received fastened on the wall behind the tree in the shape of a Christmas tree.

     On the 22nd, we'd made plans to exchange gifts and go to dinner for our first Christmas celebration. I'd seen Tom only briefly that day when Santa (Tom) came to my office to hand out gifts. He'd become the unofficial Santa for state employees, from the Governor on down. He attended man parties that day.

     After I'd knocked on the door to Tom's apartment several times,, with no answer I let myself in with the key he'd given me. I assumed he was running late. Imagine my surprise to find Santa Clause asleep in Tom's bed.

     After several attempts to wake him up with his response being a muffled 'ok, honey, I'm getting up right now' followed by deep snores. Must have been some parties he attended. So much for going out to dinner.

     Leaving him sleeping, I went into the tiny kitchen to see what I could cook, thinking it would probably be nicer to have quiet, peaceful, loving Chrism as with just the two of us. There was plenty of left-overs- in the fridge but I got out a chicken to broil, fixed some rice and asparagus

     In a little while Tom woke up and apologized to me, explaining that he'd had a little 'tad' at each party and it had caught up with him. I told him not to worry about it, I'd cooked and we'd just have a quiet dinner there.

     The phone rang. It was Tom's friend, Cayce, who lived downstairs. I heard Tom say 'Pat's cooked. Come on up.' As he hung up the phone and walked to the window. After a minute, I heard him yell and ran from the kitchen. Tom was hanging out the window, yelling at friends who were just leaving work, 8 floors below. 'Hey, Merry Christmas, come on up. We're getting ready to eat.'

     They came. The phone rang again. More friends; 'come on over' to them also. Another trip to the window. Same story second verse.

     To make a long story short, after cleaning out Cayce's fridge, all the left over's in Tom's fridge and what I'd cooked; with plenty of gravy and biscuits we ended up serving dinner to 39 people in a small efficiency apartment, about 350 square feet. We laughed, sang carols, told jokes, had a full of loving fun evening. But, a quiet, peaceful Christmas? I don't think so. But gosh, it was fun. Would love to do it again.

     To top the evening off, Tom took me home in the wee small hours of the morning. Wile on the way back in, he got sleepy. He was just pulling over in a friend's driveway when he noticed the blue lights flashing. He stopped and got out of the car, still wearing the Santa regalia.

     The policeman said: 'I think you've had a drink or two haven't you, Santa? Tom agreed he had and explained what he'd been doing. I'm sure he put in somewhere that he was the governor's personal Santa.

     Shaking his head, the policeman said: 'Oh man, what am I going to do. I can't arrest Santa.' He called the Lieutenant, the lieutenant called the captain. After conferring, they decided they would park Tom's car where he had started in and give him a ride home. They didn't want the bad press of arresting Santa

     We've had many quiet, peaceful, loving Christmases since then and many laughs remembering that night.