Holiday fiction by
S now sugared the lawn and whitened the balsam wreathes at the twin bay windows flanking the front door painted red as holly berries. Lacy flakes drifted to earth, one tethering itself to the sleeve of the old black wool jacket that Delwyn Edward Morgan wore.
D uring the holiday season, it sometimes seems like the whole world is wrapped up in presents and material possessions. Kids are writing their wish lists to Santa, adults are trying to find the “perfect gift” for their special someone, and mall parking lots are jam-packed with eager shoppers. I had always been just as guilty as the next person of harboring this fraudulent yuletide spirit, until a few years ago when I learned what the holiday season is truly about.
Toby's light flashed on. He pushed up his window. "What is it, Sam? You ready?"Tom Sheehan
L ife happens and then it just stops. The “happens” part, with all the starts and pauses, joys and disappointments, make up modern family life. My family consisted of my parents, my son and his wife, and my precocious granddaughter. The modern label is the “club-sandwich” generation; here, in the South, we just call it family. Life, too, is full of obvious truths that in any family are either ignored or unaddressed. It’s called “the elephant in the room.”