My mingling of Christmas with death and mysticism harkens back to my youth, when Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” was a staple in our home. On holiday breaks from school after playing outside, the sunset came devilishly early. To beat back the darkness and cold, I would lie on the living room carpet by the fireplace and read, hands propped under my chin. 

If my former newsrooms were people I would be attending many funerals. 2,500 newspapers in the United States have closed since 2005. The country will lose one-third of its newspapers by 2025.

I can tell you the day I discovered freedom because I remember every intoxicating detail of the moment I drove alone for the first time after getting my driver’s license. Now, in what seems like a single heartbeat of time, my daughter is learning to drive.