Chapter 13: Holidays
The first Christmas under the new rules was awkward and survivable.
We hosted a short afternoon open house for friends and the relatives who could accept a name without committee. My mother came for ninety minutes, sat on the sofa, and watched Samuel open a wooden truck. She did not bring a stocking with alternate initials. When she left, the air in the room loosened by a degree I could feel in my shoulders.
May you like
New Year’s we spent alone on purpose. Daniel cooked. I slept early. Samuel woke at midnight anyway, and we let him see a single sparkler in the backyard, cold air and all, because some traditions are allowed to be small and new.
Easter brought a photo from my mother with a caption that used Samuel’s correct name. I stared at the screen longer than the image deserved. Progress was not always a speech. Sometimes it was orthography.
