And I have no idea what to do later on, when he learns that other people celebrate Christmas as the birth of Jesus, their Redeemer and Savior, while he celebrates it as a day to celebrate family, good friends, and good food. I secretly hope that our generation will be more lax about their faith, so that the children of atheists, agnostics, and atheist-Jew combos won’t be alienated for not believing something that is almost certainly false, and that half the alleged believers don’t actually believe anyway.

For now, I tell myself, and hopefully will tell Brandon, that it’s less important why these holidays are celebrated, and more important what they mean to us as individuals, and as a family. To borrow, albeit somewhat grotesquely, from the existentialists, we can create meaning in the world, we need not take it as it’s given, pre-packaged and ready to consume. The meaning of Christmas, Easter, and the rest are up for grabs, no matter what the “Put the Christ back in Christmas” crowd has to say about it.

When I set out on the writing of a memoir 5 years ago, when I was 22 and thought I had nothing to say about myself or no way to say it, I didn’t plan to write a memoir. Then I started writing some essays and realized my writing was much better when I didn’t have the convenience of fiction to hide behind. I do recommend the process of Bringing the Pain. I’m glad you’ve been getting into it.