Lyrics Our Small Traditions - Morris & Rivers

We made our traditions
The tinsel and the wreath
Garland in the pantry door
I'd find you, there beneath

The paper decorations
That fell when you walked by
Crayon colors melting
In those blue and mustard eyes

Frank and Dot Posluszny
At the end of Parker Lane
A hatchback near the boxwood hedge
A rooster weathervane

The nurses knew my middle name
I'd visit every day
They let me change the radio
To hear the yankees play

While day and night you slumbered
Tied to your Medline chair
For jubilee or holiday
I was always there

And even on the coldest nights
Before the midnight mass
We ate your favorite dinner
Ham and babka, leaning forward
Your oxford freshly pressed
You're buttoned, combed and blessed

It was your face
It was your hands
It was you
Here is my food
My love
My touch
Here is Christmas
It's true

Before our time was over
Put a blanket on your shoulder
Listened to you breathing
And watched the snow
While watching you
We keep our small traditions
Just like we used to do