I am having a rather introspective Christmas this year, thinking of getting older yet still having a sense of wonder at the joyousness of the year. Thinking of all my friends who are suffering — two with COVID, one with pancreatic cancer. Thinking of my father, who still mourns at Christmas for my mom who died thirteen years ago. Thinking of people I’ve never met who don’t have the families they need.
How suffering can co-exist with joy is a mystery. My mother’s last words to me, thirteen years ago on the 23rd were “You look bored — go out and have some fun.” This captures this season more than anything, I think.
So this is Christmas. I’m going to spend my day with Richard, watching the rest of the Lord of the Rings trilogy that I started last night (remastered set) and drinking yaupon tea and playing with my Kaweco brass pencil.
Words Like Me 