11/10/2026
The Holidays!
(bit of a read)
“For as long as I can remember, the holidays didn't begin with the first snowfall or the smell of mom’s pine scented room spray in the living room. For me, they began with a quiet, private ritual between my dad and me.
He’d reach into his pocket and pull out a small, rectangular box. It was never new, the corners of the cardboard were always slightly frayed but to me, it was the holy grail.
"It’s been good to me," he’d say, his voice a low, gentle rumble, as he handed me his old phone. "Now it’s yours."
It was never the latest model. It had the faint scuffs of a life hard-worked, tiny scratches from his pocket change, the worn matte finish where his thumb always rested while he texted me "On my way home" or "Proud of you, son." But when I took it from his calloused hands, it felt like he was handing me a piece of himself. I would spend hours that night wiping down the screen, setting up the wallpaper, and marveling at the fact that I now held the very window through which he had connected with the world, and with me. I felt grown-up. I felt chosen. Most of all, I felt an overwhelming wave of excitement, a heartbeat of pure joy that carried me through the entire winter.
As the years pressed on, those hand-me-down phones became the archives of our lives. They held the blurry photos of our family dogs, old texts between us, and the digital proof of a man who worked tirelessly to give us everything he could, even if it meant sacrificing things for himself.
Of course I have many memories of past holidays, but the little things like that are what I looked forward to. Even to this day, roughly 15 years since that stopped, I still have some of those devices and will hold on to them and the memories shared for as long as I can.”
- John Fox
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