As always, my friend the Old Geezer comes to explain the year to me – and perhaps help some of those in my world understand me better (ha not likely) or at least see the world in some different ways:
It is always reflective and calm in the Cathedral of St. Matthew. It may be the most immense Catholic church in Washington but in many ways it is also one of the most intimate – the nooks for reflection and thought, the various sanctuaries to light candles, the warm embracing talk from those who serve to those who desire to hear guidance. And it is always snug no matter what the temperature.
So as the wind howled outside, the candles flickered not. Only the thoughts of the year now quickly coming to a close moved and dimmed, wavered and danced.
The others had left and I was alone in the massive facility, just a few pews away from where Kennedy’s body laid and where countless have asked for guidance. Occasionally a priest would peer in to see if I had finally left, so he could shutter the doors and make his way into the next year.
Not quite yet. Marley’s ghost had come and gone, as did the dance of the sugarplums. There was one special person I was waiting for.