Holidays

It's likely that next year, Trevor & I will be somewhere far, far away for the holidays.

This was making me sad until Christmas Eve afternoon, as we drove around the slushy and cindery streets of suburban St. Louis looking for somewhere to take a walk in the 4pm dusk before attending a gathering of cousins and eating hashbrown casserole in an overheated, overcrowded house while getting smoke blown in my face by a fantastically kind aunt who also votes Republican because of abortion.

We will miss lots of people. But I hope that this time next year, I will be able to look back on the succession of overwhelming parties, gift-wrapped junk, white-knuckle drives in the snow, and post-meal bloats and push away the sentimentality enough to remember the reality.