Bow, as you pass.

There is only one Christmas in my mind.

It’s not a holiday I care for. It’s not one that I celebrate. It’s a lonely day, and it aches like the flu.

But there was one. Just one.

It was the three of us. I was the one voted to make the calls, to get the two out of obligations.
At the correct time, I did as planned. Called one cell phone and said that it was time, and we giggled. I called the other, and acted scared to get a reaction to create the illusion of something real on the other end to lend a hand in the escape.

And then, we three came together.

There was only one place in that city that was open on that day. A place with disgustingly sugared doughnuts and cheap coffee. We place our order, three black coffees and a dozen doughnuts. The lady handed us the box, but didn’t give us the coffees. Dismissing us with, “Merry Christmas”.

And back to the apartment we went. The two boys were boys and stuffed their faces quickly. I had a couple of bites before I stopped, and made us coffee. By the time the coffee was done they were both sick.

One boy in the bathroom, one boy holding his tummy on the couch.

So I nursed, and it wasn’t long before they were hyper again.

We sat and watched cartoons like children, huddled under blankets, giddy with sugar, giggling like fools.

But,
Christmas has ended, and so have we.

How to wear the new year.

I don’t usually receive Christmas presents… Last year was a fluke, and just a product from the job I was working.

This year, I expected my Christmas to be the same as the previous years. Stay at home, inside, with my pup (and now a kitten), and a few bottles of wine.

So imagine my surprise when I look out my front door to see this on the porch.

Haha… yes. This my friends, is a real Christmas gift for a girl like me.

One part Ciroc Vodka. (My favorite.)
One part orange tic-tacs. (Due to a story.)
One part obligatory Frank note. (To be added to the collection on my refrigerator and bulletin board.)

… And that is how you wear the new year.

(Thanks Frank. It means a lot.)

Of it all.

We celebrated Thanksgiving yesterday, at my house.

14 people that I’ve found along the way. Some of these people, belonging to each other, but most of them not. Loose change in a loveseat.

It worked, and worked well. Typical even. Tears in the early morning, wine beginning the late morning. A hot kitchen that paints perspiration along hairlines. Pup stepping on toes, catching food that falls. The few, the ones that mean the most, here to guide me along, and calm when perfection just isn’t… all before the late dinner began.

It wasn’t long ago when I thought I would never have this unity again. A series of days that lack in collective warmth.

Thanksgiving, the only day that I celebrate. The one day a year that reminds me that I used to have a family, and one day a week was always like Thanksgiving. Before we moved to the states, and after. I used to belong to others.

Three years ago I decided it was time to make my own, giving a place for all the strays to go. A home for all, even though it could never be.

This year it finally worked… It was a disaster in the most charming of ways.

And as I stood facing my kitchen stove, hearing the chatter of those in other rooms, I put the glass of wine to my heart, and let a tear slide down my cheek. One just for you Mama. Only for you.

A warm creature nuzzled up to me, wrapped her arm around my waist, leaned her head down onto mine. Sipping our wine, basking in the tenderness, watching the cranberries crack and boil, She said, “I love this” and whispered a secret into my ear. We held hands, I took a deep breath, another sip of wine. I missed what wasn’t there, those living, those dead. And as timers were dinging, glasses clinking, and food piling, I tucked it all into that soft spot in my heart, the one that skips beats not because of the murmurs, but because it’s mine.

I see you sitting in the corner of the room, alone, trying to smile. But here, take this… because though you weren’t, you very much were.

We, are magic.

Thank you all for coming home.

Happy Thanksgiving.