It’s Monday and I’m driving through the vast expanse of the Arizona desert. Usually I would already be regretting the long week I have ahead of myself, but this week is different. It is the week that ends with Christmas.

I can feel the thunderstorms on my back as I head further North, the landscape taking in the water like a dry sponge.

Most people slow down production during this time, and I am no different. Work will always be waiting for me. But I feel lucky to be able to see the Christmas spirit in nature, and the beauty around every turn.

As the week winds down, I realize that I haven’t seen you in awhile. I ask our friend a question :

Question, why do Jewish people put small stones on the graves of the dead?
I get the following response :

“different Jews will have different ways to make sense of the custom. i like to think the idea is that it serves as a sign that the dead is remembered/respected and that a person visited that particular grave. also, before tomb stones were common, people would just pile stones together to mark a burial, and then whenever a person would come to visit the grave, they’d adjust the stones. it could be that the custom evolved from that.”

I come to see you on Christmas Eve, like I do every year, and leave my own small remembrance on your headstone. I know that you’ll love the sentiment.


Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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