Ghosts of Christmas Past

I ran across these pictures from the Christmas of 1968. I was 10-years-old and on top of the world. I've always said that no matter what happens to your in life, you can't trade anything for a good childhood, and I certainly had one.
In the picture below (at left) is my grandmother—the only other person besides my husband that I could call "my soulmate". I'm in the middle and my cousin Jerry is on the right. Jerry was in special training at Pope Air Force Base in Fayetteville that Christmas and spent the holidays with us.
In the photo on the right, and he would probably be very upset with me for sharing this picture, is my Daddy coming upstairs to our living room with movie camera in hand and ready to film Christmas Eve present-opening.