Disclaimer: This is the last time in this fic that I will say that I own nothing.

"We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty friend.
And give us a hand o' thine.
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne."

-Robert Burns

Molly looked around the house. It would only be a few more hours now before everyone came and the house would be full again. She sighed. These walls held so many memories. Some of them were good, some of them were bad but they were all here. She looked out her window at the softly falling snow. Arthur always loved the snow. He'd get the children bundled up and take them outside to make forts and snowmen, to sled down the orchard hill. Ever since becoming a mother, her thoughts on snow had centered around wet boots tracking mud through the house and not-so-good-natured snow ball fights making someone or other cry. She supposed that was what had made them such a good team. He had left such a big hole in her life, in her heart . . .

All of the Christmases they had had together in this house swirled through her mind, a thousand images, countless presents, the smells of a hundred plus Christmas dinners. What did it all amount to now? Who would be the keeper of these memories once she was gone? She had never thought of it before. Once she passed on, once she re-joined Arthur, the memories of these Christmases would be gone. Of course the children had their own memories but she and Arthur had been the glue that held them together. The thought that these memories would slip into obscurity was more than her already aching heart could bear. She pulled her warm dressing gown more firmly about her shoulders and tried to think of something to do that would ease her troubled mind.

She sat down at the writing desk that Arthur had set up for her. It overlooked the back yard and had a roll-top that was just like the one her grandmother had had. She pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped her favorite quill into her favorite bright purple ink and began to write.

When Arthur and I were first married . . .

A/N: It's over. I know I'm a couple days past what I had been aiming for but I did my best which I hope counts for something! A big thank you goes out to the people who reviewed. It always brightened up my day! Now I have time to focus on my other story which has been super, super neglected as of late:)

Thanks again,

Liz