Overworked with some probate I’m paying to the concept of Family. Not a nice, happy, shining family; a family that lusters after a nice homecooked meal and laughs together over the meaningless, raises issues of second-rate importance, snaps over solidarity, and rejoices within the routes that differentiate us all. Yet, we still find each other here. Year after year. We finally got around to spending Christmas together. A feat, no noble; it’s been 4 years.
So it’s there, you take me. I play jaunty tunes. Odes to nostalgia, waking chords that rise the memory of the dead and suddenly we’re sharing stories. All the past holidays of years to recount that there hasn’t been a good one in awhile.
Dismal detours through the dredge, that’s how the holidays have been in years past. Though today, I feel proud. Kismet with chaotic serenity. I like to dance this fast. Even in the moments I sneak way to remember what life was like before it was so crowded; I know this is home.
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