25 December 20XX
My Dear Lucilius:
Christmas has long been a day of silence now for many years: no more rustling outside the door as children patiently wake for parents to wake up, no more frenzied action as wrapping paper and bows are torn apart, no more breakfasts or early dinners around laden tables. Just myself and the rabbits, taking in the snow.
I do not overly lament this change of course. This is simply part of the cycle that we all have to live through one way or the other, like it or not. People come, people go, but at some point we all find ourselves alone.
The question is, what do we do about it?
Some become bitter. Some cling to everything in the past, as if dying embers can light the future. Some simply surrender and give up.
And some learn to to drink coffee with their pets and watch the snow in silence.
I like to believe it was largely silent in the Stable the night as well.
Merry Christmas, Old Friend.
Your Obedient Servant, Seneca