Before the household wakes.
Lifestyle. Good morning from foggy Vermont. I’m here in our living room, the tree lights on, a gift blocking my view of the nativity, and all alone, as the dog chose to hang out upstairs with my sleeping ones. Before I blog every week, I choose a theme and write a draft. But this morning, fresh with the inspiration of Christmas Eve, I thought I’d just sit down and let my heart dictate what I need to say.
My friend Kathy, who follows the stars, predicted in 2015 that this year would be full of “bad things.” Well, she was right. It was. And the year isn’t done with us yet. But because of my faith (nurtured by both of my parents) and my internal compass of hope (nurtured by my mother) I say, “so be it.” Christmas is tomorrow, and nothing will keep me from celebrating Jesus’s birth, reveling in family time, and being grateful for the magical way that as soon as I am empty from the difficulties of living, I get replenished by my earth and human angels, and a few good prayers.
I know through your comments that you’ve all held me and my family in your thoughts. Thank you. At the same time, I have kept you in my heart as well, you readers I do know, and those of you I don’t know yet. We all have the capacity to care for each other, even in our most trying times. This is what will get us through this old year and into the new. Whatever we face in 2017, whatever disasters and sorrows await, we will endure, simply because we care. We honor each other. We reach out. We love.
You may think I’m getting all mushy and maudlin on you. And perhaps, in the contemplative quiet of this Christmas Eve morning, I am. But I’m saying it anyway. Merry Christmas, and a happy holiday season to all of you with every faith, circumstance, and location on this dear, old Earth. Hold fast and dance!
Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.