Ghosts Of Christmas Pasts — 1972

Author’s Photo

This was the first Christmas after my mother had died. It was all the sad and awful things you can imagine it would be. My mother WAS Christmas in our family. My father and I tried, but the void where my mother used to stand was unyeilding and vast. Grief was a cloak we wore like a security blanket.

But Christmas came — as the Grinch stated — no one stops Christmas from coming. No matter what. And it has…