Another Christmas has passed, the leftovers carefully frozen for future use. The memories created from the annual gathering of the clan are also safely preserved in our memories.
Years from now, many details will fade, like melting ice in the bottom of an empty glass. What remains is the essence of what was, the experience, an overarching feeling of joy of having tasted it.
The glass is not empty, merely waiting to be filled again at the next gathering of the clan.
Christmas is just days away. Families will gather around the table to enjoy a meal together, but it’s more than that. It’s the one time of the year many people have to talk at length with family members, trading quips, patting each other on the back or hugging the folks you have not seen in a while. It’s a pity we don’t take the time more often. Like has a way of slipping by without noticing, like a creek that has gone dry. Friends, like water, are a precious commodity.
As writers, we take inspiration from many sources, including nature. The whine of a fat bumblebee tracing a lazy path in the mid-summer heat or the drumbeat of spring raindrops pelting down on a tin roof. They all evoke a feeling, an emotion, a memory. I like to think that as writers, we are making memories for all to enjoy.
Alexsandra Thompson 