In The Afterglow

 I am a writer! I am many other things as well and this entry may be about some of those things and it might be about Christmas. But to begin I want to stake my claim on being a writer because I want to get down to the business of writing as January approaches. Writing like  most other things we accomplish takes effort, commitment , focus and passion. We have to want to make it happen. I am proud to say that I did just that to see eleven books reach publication. But 'resting on our laurels ' as they say will not write another book. The finished product is a good goal to aspire to but even more than that I love the process. I love the unfolding, the unravelling, the rethinking and envisioning of how to tell a story. In my writing journal today I jotted down what I call tub thoughts ( one of the many reasons I love a bath) and then asked myself what the story really is in my WIP. Good question to ponder. I think I know but will continue to search out the answer as I craft it. I love that part. So why wouldn't that be motivation enough to get me to my desk every day. That is a good question as well and sometimes being the other things I am such as wife , mother, grandmother, friend and binge TV watcher keep me from the writing. I have a lovely ,quiet solitary writing space these days and I am very thankful for it and will attempt to truly appreciate and use it during the winter months ahead. What better gift to the writer in me and ultimately to all the other roles as well. On this day I bask in the afterglow of previous work as well as the afterglow of another Christmas. For forty four years I made Christmas happen in whatever home we were in. Now I realize I didn't do it single handedly but for the most part the effort, commitment , focus and passion came from me. Each one of those Christmases looked different from the one before and Christmas 2021 certainly did too. I will not even begin to list those differences. Many of the wonderful parts of the celebration remained the same and for that I am so grateful. I won't list those either but I hold them in my heart , my memory and my journal so they will not be forgotten. The afterglow and on we go. We head toward a new year stronger, wiser and richer for the love we shared and the lessons we've learned.

A Cup of Kindness Yet

For  years I have listened to the Harbour Lights show that took place every year at the city market. I always thought some day I'm going to get up early enough and go into the market for that show. Last year and again this year the show did not take place. And this year I live a few blocks away and could have gotten there without much effort. Instead I set my alarm so I could walk two blocks down and one block over to get to Good Fibrations to buy Harbour Lights mugs. I loved my walk down the city streets in the before dawn darkness as lights twinkled on the street and in store fronts. I got into a short line talking to the young father ahead of me ,his baby daughter strapped to his front and the tall man in front of him;  David, a Hickey grandson, a city counselor and an all round lovely  young man. Before long I stood at the counter and bought two beautiful Harbour Lights mugs. I walked back up Princess St and felt the joy and contentment of the day and the season. Last night my friend Kathy gifted me with tickets to see the Barra MacNeil's at the Imperial Theatre. What a pleasure to sit and absorb the beauty of piano, fiddle, guitar, bodran drum and the resonating voices of that talented family. They finished with a resounding rendition of Auld Lang Syne offering hope and kindness in this dark and worrying time. We'll take a cup of kindness yet... I look to the pottery cups, I look to the lights and the waking day and pray for that kindness.

So This Is Christmas

 I saw a post the other day saying something to the effect that once the glue that kept Christmas together was gone Christmases are not the same. I considered that sentiment for awhile and responded with something about new glue and new Christmases. Thinking more on that this morning I realize that Christmas like everything else in life is always in a state of constant change. The Christmases when I was a little girl were very different than the Christmases of when I was a young mother. People talk now of Covid Christmases and lament not being able to gather in large groups. Some traditions changed because of a global Pandemic and some were added. Loss changes Christmas and makes the approaching season challenging for many. What then is the glue, might be the question. Many cling to the 'reason for the season', some concentrate on the gift giving, some the food, some the music and some clutch to the  grinch-ness of the season. I know what my glue is and my intention is to fully embrace it this Christmas. My glue is memory, family, gratitude and adapting. This Christmas is being held in two locations for me. I have a small city space that is offering me comfort and joy and a country home  that  holds past blessings. present gifts and future hope. Another Christmas approaches and will not be exactly like any other. Caleb cut the tree and he and Jenna stood it in the same corner as last year. Jenna and Cody put the lights on it. The rest of us will add ornaments and sit around the twinkling beauty of it together. My beloved Nativity figures are set up in my small city space and I look to the one flickering candle as a clear beacon of hope. I can not even begin to list the multitude of blessings but see a warm winter coat hanging in a cozy safe, space and gaze at a small tree holding some of my winter garden ornaments and feel the blessings of what another Christmas gives us despite the changes and challenges and people who are missing. John Lennon's Christmas song echoes my son's voice and made up lyrics as it always does and a smile accompanies the tears. The glue is us and we make the choice of what another Christmas has to offer.