I don’t know how it snuck up on me. I’m sure it’s somehow related to the constant rotation of the earth, and its journey through space around the sun. Be that as it may, it’s suddenly Christmas. And I’m not ready for it to be.

Yes, I’ve sent out some cards (did that last Saturday, in fact), but I have several left to send. Yes, I bought (and delivered) some gifts. But I still find myself surprised to realize that it is now, this very moment, Christmas Eve, and that tomorrow is Christmas Day (and my youngest dog’s fourth birthday).

It can’t be Christmas already – I’ve not baked my spritz cookies, or made my mom’s cinnamon rolls, or thawed the turkey breast. Oh, wait – I don’t need to thaw the turkey breast – I’ve been invited to a friend’s house for Christmas dinner. I’ve not watched “It’s a Wonderful Life,” or “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.”

And yet, thanks to the inexorable turning of time, it’s Christmas, whether I’m ready for it to arrive or not. And I find myself periodically shifting between a “bah, humbug!” attitude (this is, after all, the first Christmas that I won’t be able to call my dad and brighten his day by singing “Merry Christmas” to him), and a humble gratitude that the seasons turn regardless, and that Christmas comes again every year, no matter what our circumstances may be.

I’m missing my dad, and I know I’m not the only person who will be facing their first Christmas since the loss of a loved one. And I’m not the only person spending the holiday miles away from any family members. In my case, it’s by choice – for others it may be due to the vagaries of weather, or the call of duty.

It can be a bittersweet day, or even a bitter day, if I let it. But I learned a long time ago, while in the Air Force, that *I* determine how my day will be, and that even a Christmas that should by rights be a sad time can be a glad time instead, if I choose that option.

So yes, I will lift a glass to my dad tonight or tomorrow, toasting his memory and acknowledging my loss. And I will say a prayer for all those who are dealing with loss at this time. But that will only be a portion of my day. The majority of it will be spent celebrating the joy of friendships and family, strengthening the ties that bind (and sometimes gag), watching my youngest dog chase his new ball around the back yard (he didn’t get the memo about how greyhounds don’t play). And I will join my friends for dinner, and be thankful that I have friends who open their hearts and their homes to those who are alone, even if they are alone by choice, as I am.

I will also spend some time remembering those who are alone this holiday season, by choice and by duty. Those who have chosen to serve their country by serving in her armed forces, and are spending this holiday scattered around the globe. I will lift a glass to them as well, and pray that it will be a day of peace for them, no matter where they are stationed.