Merry grieving

On holidays as trapdoors into the past

Holidays are trapdoors into the past. They’re the closest thing I’ve experienced to time travel. Every year I forget about the time travel.

Then the all-encompassing sadness hits and I wonder what the hell is going on. Why am I solemnly sneaking away from the joyful opening of presents to slip on my mom’s high school ring? And why am I crying while putti…