It is December 5th and I’ve finished my holiday box of chocolate covered Oreos. They are supposed to be a special treat that I sneak one-at-a-time as I do all the work that makes Christmas. I used to have enough discipline to share one or two without regret, but one child is in the hospital, others are struggling, and my oldest let us know that she can’t come for Christmas this year.
The empty box is something to pay attention to, but I don’t regret it. Sometimes it is better to have an Oreo than nothing. Sometimes the empty box can comfort you by reminding you there are better ways of being, and that you miss them. Some day I’ll put both feet on the ground, and I won’t budge, not even for Christmas.
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