Look over books, anthologies, and posts this time of year, and you’ll find heartwarming, tear-inducing, and awe-inspiring holiday stories. I applaud those writers. But (other than How the Grinch Stole Christmas) I’m not interested in picking up such pieces. They feel like installments on the Hallmark Channel. There’s an element of “real life” that’s always missing.
The holidays are messy. They fall apart. Things go wrong. (I mean, we’re talking gatherings of family) And – regardless of which you celebrate – the days can hold different meanings for different people.
Which is where this piece for The Memoirist came from: Bandages, Christmas, and the Number Ten.
I promise my usual blend of weird, non-traditional, and enough holiday spirit to throw “Christmas” into the title.
1 thought on “What’s Christmas Without Urgent Care?”