the word studio – …where your fine writing becomes great…
Several years ago I spent Christmas eve and the following days in the local hospital. I’d been wrapping presents that eve and every time I got up off the floor I felt a little more dizzy, until, there I was sitting on the toilet feeling like I was going to pass out. I had no idea what was wrong, I figured it was my usual holiday stress, my habit of waiting until way past the last minute, but I told my partner I had to go to the hospital. There, at the hospital, I did faint. I had never fainted and thought I
I was alone that Christmas eve in a near empty hospital ward, with a little TV by my bed. I wasn’t devastated––there was a ton of music on the little TV, choirs singing as I dozed, and it was the first time I ever heard Faith Hill sing Where Are You Christmas which, that evening had special meaning for me. What and where was Christmas? I lay in bed that night looking out at the lovely tree all lit up in front of the hospital, a light snow falling, wondering what was going on inside me. Mostly I remember the
Many of us have had our patterns and our traditions for those few days. Mine includes watching A Christmas Carol late at night and then indulging in festivities the following day. This was not to be, that particular year. The morning following my admittance I heard the familiar clickity click of dog’s toenails on linoleum and knew Bernard was on his way down the hall with Hugo. Soon I was sitting up and there was a large poodle making himself quite comfortable on my bed.
the word studio – …where your fine writing becomes great…