The spirit of celebration has not touched our household this Christmas Eve. This house is silent, more silent than the year we lost mother. This year, we worry about keeping ourselves afloat. I’m waiting to ship off – even looking forward to it since it means that some money can start coming in … some of the family debts can be taken care of. And that’s really the crux of it. Debt looms over our household like a reaper, threatening to steal the life out of my mother’s legacy.

And I know this weighs heavily on my father, such that he’s been going to sleep drunker than the night before. He’s still not over the pain of losing my mother nor the humiliation of that parasite of a woman, Lorraine. I worry that his will to continue has buckled … and I’m clueless as to how to get him back on track. He needs to get back into church … as odd as that may sound, coming from me, but His Word did a world of good for my father. I just don’t want to see him hurt anymore.

Tomorrow Mona and I will be celebrating Christmas with her side of the family. I’m looking forward to it. I wish my pops would join us – if anything to get out of the funk with me, but he’ll be staying home and maybe visiting mom’s resting place. If I had any wish for this Christmas, it would be that all the uneasiness that seems to hang over our family be dispelled and replaced by an unwavering spirit of hope – that the brighter tomorrows become today.