A waitress woke me this morning by saying my middle child and I looked just alike. He'll be 20 before long. Waking on that thought gave me a taste of something like holiday blues. I've had them before. Lots of times. Like that time alone and drunk in a Tijuana Denny's at about my son's age. One strategy is denial - just make it an ordinary day. Sap it of sentimentality. Press on with ordinary activity or lack thereof. Or you can do that sort of holy thing, reviewing memories, sending love out quietly by yourself from the back booth while picking at your huevos rancheros. That waitress kept the coffee coming for as long as I sat there. It was just another day at work for her. Like a lifeguard.
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