
There are many moments in a day, but the important ones belong to me. – Ash

Writing is where I get the chance to add my sentence to the story of existence. – Ash

Living in the past is OK every now and again. To bask in the emotional comfort of a triggered memory. But do not live too long in the days gone by, because you’ll wind up missing the days that go by. – Ash

Ah, the Christmas argument. What’s a Christmas without a good go at it over gift ideas, and decorations, or how much does that cost? This time of year can bring a lot of holiday cheer but unfortunately, it also brings with it some holiday jeers. For example, last night while shopping I happened to find myself within earshot of a full-on couple spat one aisle over. You could tell it was one where both parties were whispering and shouting at each other. A very awkward moment anyone could relate to because who are we kidding? We’ve all been there at some time or another during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Tensions so high that with one tiny mood swing, all of a sudden everyone is doing a quick about-face, ready to throw Christmas out the door and forget it was even happening. Enough of this, we’ve spent too much money already. Half of what is in this cart is the wrong gift idea anyway. So there. Now, I am going home.
Continue reading “Post of Christmas Past # 7 – The Christmas Argument”
Ah, the missing gift. Christmastime, a sad reminder that once again there will be a certain To: and From: gift nametag missing from under the tree. A present that no longer finds its way on Santa’s list. A gift we most likely have asked for every year since. It is one of the hardest things about the holidays for me. However, I learned a long time ago not to dwell on that when it came to thinking of the people who are no longer a part of my life. Instead, I started to think of all the memories I have of them and no matter what, they will always be a part of my life that way. That will never be lost.
Continue reading “Post of Christmas Past # 5 – The Missing Gift”
A blinking cursor
the heartbeat of a writer
stories forever