This is going to be a strange old Christmas, for all the obvious reasons. There’s an underlying tension in the air at home, as the void in all our lives makes its presence felt.
Still, we’ve had beautiful snow already, everything is done and we’re all prepared to face the big day. Dinner and Midnight Mass are on the agenda for tonight, although I may try to get some writing done in amongst all of that. In a way, this may turn out to be a better Christmas than we’ve had in a little while. Last year was hard because Mark stayed in London with his then-fiancee and Dad was in a lot of pain. Mum’s expectation for the festive season have rarely been met since we passed through puberty.
Perhaps we’ll find something more to celebrate this year, despite our loss.