Sundry Wonders: Ghosts of Christmas

The Ghost of Christmas Future

Both completely expected and yet still a surprise, I celebrated Christmas at home, again, this year. Not a solo holiday this time, though; my sister came for a semi-impromptu holiday feast. Sadness hovered over us for different reasons—it felt to me like a dress rehearsal for Christmases to come, a visitation from the Ghost of Christmas Future—but no one makes me laugh like she does. We ate and laughed and ate some more to dissipate the spell. We had fun.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

On the evening of the 23^rd, my mother’s birthday, I walked around with Ollie to see more Somerville’s Illuminations Tour to see more decorations. Vintage plastic Santas and a glorious Leg Lamp display delighted me, and, map in phone, I endeavored to see as many displays as we could fit into a reasonable walk.

Until, that is, Ollie stopped halfway down one street and growled lowly. He would not move one step further.

I neither saw nor heard anything, but he’s never done that before, so we turned around. He immediately snapped back to himself, satisfied that we would heed the warnings of the Ghosts of Christmas. The temperature plummeted, and we walked home as fast as our legs could carry us. I did so wish for a sleigh.

The Ghost of Christmas Present

As with other walks last week, I didn’t run into many people. The students had already left, Harvard’s not to return until at least the end of January. I couldn’t tell if other people stayed inside because it got cold or because of everything. Maybe because we’re all a bit haunted now.

Either way, my I could hear my feet crunching gravel and salt and the jingle of Ollie’s collar as though we were the only two creatures in the world.  We came back to warm hearth and twinkling lights, the spirits kept at bay.