We celebrate. We bid farewell. We look ahead.
“It’s December, and nobody asked if I was ready,” writes poet Sarah Kay. December arrives every year with a bit of urgency, doesn’t it? The last remnants of turkey are still in the refrigerator, and all of a sudden, almost without warning, ready or not, we find ourselves turning the calendar to the very last page, and we’re forced to confront the truth that... Read more