All day long I've been coming back to this blank white virtual piece of paper. I have everything to say, and nothing to say.
My memory is flooded with the ghosts of Christmases past, and I fear Christmas yet to come. I know it will come, even without ribbons, packages boxes or tags. And it will be a good Christmas as they all are. It will be a sad Christmas as some are.
Yes, there are ribbons, packages, boxes and tags under the tree. They are the gifts bought with love in a happier time. A time filled with optimism and hope. The time when we were looking forward to having my mom join us on Christmas.
This year, one stocking will remain empty. One plate not filled. One cup of coffee not poured. Yet the house will be filled with joy and laughter. The house will be filled with the happy mess of discarded wrappings. Christmas songs will play and we will sing along. We will eat, we will drink and we will be merry. And we will be missing my mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment