Christmas Day was magical for us. Carolina actually picked up her Grand-Mother so she could come to church and hear us sing her best-loved carol, “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Later, this daughter of ours, our favorite chef, made the four of us a scrumptious pork roast. We enjoyed a quiet feast complete with a call from Clarke and Jannet, who were celebrating with her family in the Cities of Angels and Meadows.
When I think back on the year, I am full of warmth for these dear ones. Mom is making her way to the finish line; we are the lucky ones to love her and cheer her on. If you know this woman, you remember that, if she is nothing else, she is nice and determined. We are fortunate to live nearby.
And our kids! I am swelling with pride. They have worked, essentially, as an experienced teacher and an all-star foodie throughout the pandemic. Now each has bought themselves a home, one an urban townhouse, a few blocks from a new lightrail station and one a rural tiny home in beautiful Skagit Valley. She completed constructing it herself.
We are well and grateful too. Rob gardens, raises bees, and makes music. I am a spiritual gangster. Deep laughter and tears massage me through and through more often.
Each year in December I wonder, “Is this the year we will respectfully love Creation more and only send an electronic letter?” But I can’t help myself; I love snail mail. I suspect USPS, sadly, is approaching the finish line too. So much for “forever” stamps. So, here’s half of our nod to the hybrid version. Who knows how much longer we will also mail hard copy photo cards, delivered straight to your door? One thing I know for sure: I will continue luxuriating in this tradition of the Twelve Daze of Christmas, maybe writing a few extra words while at the beach house, maybe even extending the due date for mailing cards to St. Valentine’s Day. Some church traditions are worth leaning into.