A weird sort of invitation

This year, Christmas seems to be speeding towards us like a train on crack (sorry Krackers, no pun intended). I'm finding it very difficult to get into the mood, although I have bought a gift or two. I have found tears on my face at the oddest moments, not really knowing how they got there, not even realizing that I had had any sad thoughts.

Those who love me have been there, a pat on the back, a hug, a joke or just with a smile. Somehow, I can't seem to shake this. I've been doing a lot of thinking and it hit me that I'm not alone in feeling this way now, just a couple of weeks away from what is supposed to be a time of joy and giving and family. So, in my own weird way, I have decided to go all they way and give in to the sadness, if only for a short time, and not by myself.

My biggest debate with myself (and subsequently with my partner) was the wisdom of implementing my plan in the shop. This is not a business situation, this is a human situation. We need to let off some steam before we ruin someone else's Christmas. Therefore, on Friday December 18th, I will close the shop at the regular time (6pm) and then will welcome anyone who has tears in their heart (between 6 and 9 pm). Whether you've lost someone whom you want to acknowledge, whether you are overcome by stress and can't show it, whatever the cause, please join us.

We'll make it a pot luck evening, bring your knitting (or any other craft) and we'll provide the kleenex. There will be absolutely no business conducted, the candles will be lit (tears are more difficult to see in candlelight), talk if you want to, don't talk if you don't feel like it. Bring along anyone who may need to be there or come alone. The burden may be easier to carry if we share the load.

I guess I could hope that not many people feel as I do but unfortunately that isn't reality. I will gladly share a tear and a smile with anyone who will share them with me. See you then...