Christians are supposed to boast of our weakness. I am glad of that, because I am weak, and feel that I’m getting weaker. Christmas Eve was uneventful. I watched Christmas cartoons by myself because Rose is too grown-up for them now, and then we went to Midnight Mass. It was Rose’s first Midnight Mass, and my first since well before she was born. That was exciting. The bishop presided, standing at the altar between ridiculous white-light-festooned artificial pines, singing... Read more