Christmas is over, and the decorations are coming down in showers tinsel and pine needles.
This part of the holidays always makes me sad. I want the before Christmastime to go on forever. Anticipation is best, with all the wrapping paper secrets and sugar cookie baking. But the after is nice too in its own way - - quieter and more reserved than the before, who rushes towards the after in a flurry of airy movement.
Ray Bradbury writes in Dandelion Wine, "you're not the dates, or the ink, or the paper. You're not those trunks of junk and dust. You're only you, here, now - - the present you."
Even though before is wonderful, after is best, because after is who you are.
"You're in the present, you're trapped in a young now or an old now, but there is no other now to be seen."