When you wake up at four am on Christmas, you’re supposed to stay awake, right?
Go sit on the couch, turn on the tree, admire the presents one last time, count blessings, remember fondly those who are no longer here, but who will never really be gone.
A Christmas Story plays on a constant loop, tacitly in the background. Secretly you dread that final episode and the strange significance it holds.
You contemplate coffee and the commitment it will bring: maybe if I tried to a little harder to sleep, I could’ve drifted back off…..
I undoubtedly know it’s been this way forever—in some forms and fashions. Nothing much is new, and it’s the old that makes us who we are, what we’ve become. It’s early Christmas mornings for centuries now that allow us to feel more human, proud of the self awareness we posses and content with the fallibility of our ethereal existence.
And then you decide whether to post your early Christmas morning rambling on your sports website or just let it be a note on your phone……
Merry Christmas and love, everyone.