I glance at my phone. The display reads December 24, 2020. I wonder how can this be? I scroll though my social feeds. Zooming past political post after political post, I question the motives of those who are spending their Christmas spreading such nonsense. I shake my head, put my phone down and stare out the window.

Outside rain is falling. Yesterday it was snowing so hard I couldn’t see across the lake. The dampness brings a chill that only a fire can push aside. I split some wood into smaller pieces. It’s still a bit wet and smaller pieces seem to burn better. It’s been a cold fall, so I have already used all the older dry wood I had set aside.

A cat sleeps at my feet. I stare out the window. I was hoping to spend the day walking on the lake, but the rain is making that near impossible. I don’t mind being wet or cold, just not wet and cold. I read excerpts from Sandra Bernhard’s Confessions of a Pretty Lady while my wife cleans out her email folders in the other room.

It will be another quiet Christmas. It’s just the two of us so a quiet Christmas is normal. But there is a heavyness this year. While the second wave of COVID picks up steam my thoughts are with those who are fighting the fight of a lifetime and with those who will be spending this holiday alone while in the past they were surrounded by family.

Most will struggle to make this Christmas special. While this year has been ugly, I believe most of us did experience joy as well. The joy is what we should dwell on. Not the ugly.

My wish for this Christmas is for all of us to be grateful for everything we have no matter how small and fully appreciate what we are given in the future.

We wish you a safe and happy Christmas.

Be kind.

A Christmas Story