Holidays are pain.
I would say “Life is pain,” but that dredges up its own set of memories – and its own pain. The pictures I was going to post hurt as I looked through them. These stories are painful.
They’re memories of things that have changed. Nothing stays the same, but nothing asks us to expect it all to stay the same quite like holidays.
Each year, my “Christmas stories” have gotten written later and later.
I haven’t written one at all this year. Not even a dark one like last year.
I’m not certain yet what, if anything it means. (I did write stories involving aliens, Civil War vets, zombies, and giant robots, so that’s something, right?)
But I wanted to share something with all of you.
I often get (unsolicited) praise after readings. When I still read Bible verses at a church, I was told that I “could read like Moses.” But so many people are so spread out anymore. I rarely get to see you all. I almost never get to read for some of you.
So I have, here.
I hope you enjoy the stories, and wish you and yours the best in this holiday season.