Christmas Eve

All abustle - is that even a word - sounds like something Santa does. Around here it was a last minute trip to New Seasons, feeding the next door cat, and, in the early dark, leaving for Eric's short gig with the renegade Catholics (our annual foray into a church). An emotional day fueled by my weakness for sugar, hearing of the death of a cousin who suffered long and left four teenagers, and leaving two houses empty for the evening (ours and the cat's). I was teary-eyed, lonesome for so many I love (including a few Blippers), but comforted by the Journey Catholic Community who offered hope for next year if we look out for one another. That's what we must do, isn't it? Especially for the homeless man who wandered into the sanctuary for warmth and music. He wondered aloud if he was going to die, where was his candle, then wandered out again. After the service, we left for the warmth and company of Eric's brother and family before returning home to our own.