Christmas Eve after Christmas Eve, Dad sat there relishing the bounty of gifts spread out under the tree, thinking about how far he'd come. Certainly the presents symbolized material success, but beyond that they implied love and connection - a nuclear family, intact. For all his hardships, Bill Fox had managed to achieve something great. With my mom, he had helped to create a family, to care for and protect them, and at the end of another year they'd even managed to see to it that there was something left over. To ask for anything more would be asking for trouble. These, at least, are the thoughts I imagine going through his head through those sweet evenings alone. Gaze never leaving the tree, he'd lean back in his chair, take a long pull on Santa's beer, his beer, and smile.

Lucky Man, Michael J. Fox