The Second Day of Christmas

Christmas is one of the merriest sadnesses that I know.

There is a real Christmas out there, but our actual Christmases never quite reach it.  There is a film between us and that perfect transcendence.  Only in memory can we see how golden the day was.  But even at the time, we are close, so close, and no one wants the day to end.  Last night we sat around, looking at  the tree, talking just a little.  We were going over the events of the day as if it were already golden memory.

We have a picture of Betsey hanging on the tree.

Most of our loved ones were far away this Christmas.  I remember Christmases as a child, when my grandparents were still alive.  “Through the years we all will be together . . . ”  Yes, very true.  But not factual.  Why can it be so sad to be so happy?  Why can it be so happy to be so sad?

The 12 Days of Christmas, after Christmas, are a way of slowly coming back up into the regular January air, lest you do it too quickly.  Most of you who take down the tree the day after, its no wonder you get the bends.