Mom’s last Christmas was coming up. I knew it, but I didn’t believe it, still. She managed to sign a few cards, and pick out gifts for all of us. She didn’t come home, which shocked me, though it shouldn’t have. We went to her.
Spoiler alert: Family members– Do not read this post until after Christmas. Or, do not read the last paragraph. I can’t stop you of course, but I for one still believe in Santa, and I think you’d rather be surprised. Just wait.
Yesterday, as I drove my 16-year-old exchange student, Denmark (as she’s known here), to run some errands, she said something that many of us do about this time of year: “People always say that this is a happy time of year; that we should all be in the Christmas spirit; but it seems like everyone is totally stressed out, rushing around and just buying things like crazy… no one seems all that happy.” Wow. I was struck by how familiar that was, but how mournful it sounded coming from my usually über cheerful Danish daughter. “I think people just lose sight of so much this time…
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