Bookmarks

Christmas is such a bookmark in time for people in this culture.
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You can't remember what happened year after year on April 22, (unless that's your birthday or anniversary or something) but December 25 evokes all sorts of memories and emotions.   I feel bad for Ryan and his companions at FreshAyer during this time when separation must make the emotions intensify.
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On Christmas, your parents are young again, all of your pets are still alive, and you relive times when all of the bullshit that you have been sledgehammered with never hit.
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Not that I would change a thing.   All of the past Christmases add up to this morning.... here and now.
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Merry Christmas.