The holidays ring different when you’re nearing your 50s, your parents are gone, and you’re single. To date I’ve had 48 Christmas mornings, as a child, a teenager, with a wife and girlfriends at various points in life. What an adventure, huh?
But that’s life. I probably don’t have 48 more Christmas mornings in me, but maybe 20 or so? That looks weird when I write it out, but that’s the reality. I guess 20 would be great, but shit happens. Maybe it’s only 10. Maybe this was my last Christmas. No one knows such things, I guess.
But today was a day, a cold Wednesday, overcast and grey. Tomorrow is a new day, but that’s about all I know at this point.