Christmas is a hard holiday. Or rather, Christmas Eve is. It’s a day for traditions. For opening one present. For dinners with family. It’s difficult when there is no family.

I miss Christmas Eve with Mom and Dad. I miss all of us jockeying when to fill each others’ Christmas stockings, trying to do it when no one else will notice. I miss the Moravian Lovefeast in Rural Hall culminating at midnight, singing carols, eating buns, and drinking Sanka.

I stare in wonder at my friends who still have one, or both, of their parents. Do they realize how lucky they are? Have they any idea how much they will miss them when they’re no longer there? When traditions no longer are, because the people aren’t there to uphold them?