May Our Holiday Hearts Give Us Some Respite.

May our resolve carry us through the New Year

A scene on a shelf at my daughter’s house.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Season’s Greetings!

It’s the morning of Christmas Eve as I write this. I’m sitting at the makeshift desk I’ve set up in my daughter’s guest room, where I usually start off with Wordle and then Connections, and then I move on to see what the world sees out there.

Today I’m feeling mellow. The tree is lighted and decorated, the presents are wrapped, I’ve made my desserts (Brownies and Fruit Cocktail cake for me—my mainstays), and I’m ready for family cheer. For the last few years, we’ve given up on ham or turkey dinners and have gone with Chicken Cacciatore (my Italian father’s recipe), with salad, garlic bread, appetizers, and desserts. Just enough, not too much, except for the candy dishes all over the place.

I’m thankful for another year with these people I love so much, while at the same time the tears are at the brim, waiting for those moments when I suddenly, inevitably remember that my dear Ed will be missing again this year. The third Christmas without him, (How can that be?) and the ache still grinds. I want him here, but I want him whole and happy. I want him the way he was in those years before a lurking cancer weakened him, that cancer we didn’t know existed until two weeks before it took him.

This first Christmas without my wonderful nephew, Jason, will be a hard one. That wound is fresh. Too fresh. Too painful. But we’ll get through it as a family, keen to keep his memory alive at his favorite time of year.

This end-of-year holiday season is one of high expectations, no matter how we celebrate it. Good things must happen in these days before the New Year because, for most of us, this year didn’t bring us enough good things.

It’s as if these last days of the year are our last chance. We talk of joy and hearts filled with laughter. We talk of kindness and love. We do good things for others less fortunate because we might not have much, but we have more, and we can’t bear the thought of a holiday without a little hope.

For many of us the thought of the year ahead is painful and scary. We have no idea how the new administration will impact us or the people we care about. We’re steeling ourselves for the challenges ahead, but for now we’re needing peace—not just for us but for everyone still grieving or angry over the election outcome. For everyone who found the pain of living almost unbearable this past year. For everyone clinging to the thought of something—anything—better.

Peace. No matter how we celebrate—or don’t—my hope is that you will find your peace in the days ahead. Be kind, especially to yourself. Take care. Find the spot where love exists.

And share it.

When this sand dollar cracked opened, I had no idea there were peace doves inside. I laid them on a blue velvet background and made this Christmas card one year.