Nostalgia is setting in. This morning as I began trimming the Christmas tree, I got out the Grandma decoration I made back when the kids were little, maybe kindergarten and fourth grade. Actually I made a whole series of bakers' clay ornaments but Grandma is the only one still surviving, preserved from year to year now in a Tupperware container. And the Christmas tree lights Peter put up last night are still stored in a big red box from Steiger's, a Springfield MA department store that closed shortly after we moved away in 1983. Every year I get more sentimental, some might say sappy, pulling out the disco ball ornament a dancing friend gave me back in my Buffalo School of Movement days, the handmade angel and 'pizza on earth' I got from my sister, probably twenty years apart, and the fabric animals I pieced together and decorated with button eyes and yarn manes and tails. This year, the first that Meg is not coming home for the holiday, I'm thinking especially of her and wondering how her tree-trimming memories will begin.