For the Christmas weekend, a repeat of last year's "The Night My Father Shot Santa," under "Essays" in the website.
The story itself has accumulated some emotional impact with my family. I read it to my mother last year over the phone as she lay near death in a nursing home. It was hard for me to finish the last paragraph. She died a few weeks later, truly at peace - not because of the essay, but because it was her time and she had lived as good a life as she could. We all, I think, have our "essays" of family at Christmas or the holidays, when most things went well even if they went wrong - when the spirit was upon us. The spirit - we don't know what it is, but we know when it has been with us, if only years later. It is our mystery and our ultimate grace, our connection with what is greatest among us. May the spirit be with us all this holiday. FK
The story itself has accumulated some emotional impact with my family. I read it to my mother last year over the phone as she lay near death in a nursing home. It was hard for me to finish the last paragraph. She died a few weeks later, truly at peace - not because of the essay, but because it was her time and she had lived as good a life as she could. We all, I think, have our "essays" of family at Christmas or the holidays, when most things went well even if they went wrong - when the spirit was upon us. The spirit - we don't know what it is, but we know when it has been with us, if only years later. It is our mystery and our ultimate grace, our connection with what is greatest among us. May the spirit be with us all this holiday. FK
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