Maybe it’s because, after several years of death (my parents and mother-in-law), I believe that everyone that is here for Christmas this year will be here next year, and our numbers might even increase.

Maybe it’s because of peer pressure, the fact that my next door neighbor has two Christmas trees, a Christmas shower curtain and bedspread, and enough lights to illuminate all of downtown Cincinnati.

Maybe it’s because the far-aways, my daughter and son-in-law from Oslo, Norway, and my brother and sister-in-law from Siler City, North Carolina, are flying in.

Maybe it’s because I am actually organized this year, with my cookie dough in Seal-a-Meal bags (yes, at this time of year, cookie dough IS a meal) in the freezer.

Maybe it’s because my Christmas togs from last year are too big this year.

Maybe it’s because Frontier flies into Cincinnati and Frisch’s brought back Coke, praise the Lord.

Whatever the reason, this year I became a born-again-elf. I decked the halls.  I brought out the holly. I hung the mistletoe.  And I even bought another Christmas tree after swearing off trees four years ago. 

It’s not really that everything is great, so this renewed spirit has to be despite some things:  cages and pipelines; wars and school shootings; sycophants and silenced women; fires and floods.

But despite these horrible, horrible things, I have so much gratitude.  I am privileged, mostly through no efforts of my own, to take food, shelter, and safety for granted, but I feel an awakening, still, to small wonders:

• That I am married to a man who understands my art because he is an artist, too.
• That I can afford the swabs, lancets, monitor, and strips I use four times a day to make sure I am not too sweet.
• That Skype, messaging, What’s Ap, and Facebook exist so my daughter in Norway can get my mashed potato recipe, one, two, three.
• That I can look out my window and see the Great American crown lit up in red and green and look into the windows of the high rise apartment building on the next corner and see Christmas trees (and sometimes a man in his underwear).
• That my retirement allows me to be a better friend and helper.
• That I am in the position to support agencies that assist the hungry, the homeless, the battered, the sick.
• That I have a second home in Women Writing for (a) Change where I came for the writing, but stayed for the community. That I have two writing groups, POD (Publish or Die) and the Saturday Retreat gang, that make my writing better
• That I have, in my aunt and uncle, ambassadors of our family traditions, that we will be eating turtle soup for Christmas, made from my grandpa’s recipe.  Oh, “the golden days of yore.”
• That I turn the key in the ignition and my car always starts, on cold and rainy days and when I’m five minutes late (which would be every time I hop in the car).
• That I have this blog, a place to express myself and maybe provide a few minutes of mirth or a window on wisdom.
• That my children are in love.  That I am in love.  That despite all evidence to the contrary, love abounds in our world.
• That in my little corner of the world, life is cozy and full and safe and interesting.

So, yes, I bought a new Christmas tree, which has quite surprisingly brought me abundant pleasure.

The ornaments, each a prayer of gratitude,

• The felt ones my mom hand stitched . . . thank you, God, for my talented mother, who demonstrated her affection with thread, yarn, rickrack, and hot glue.  I only hope I thanked her enough,
• The  the pickle ornament from my mother-in-law . . . thank you, God, for her and her stories about years gone by, including weird traditions, and for the report cards and bronzed baby shoes and snapshots she saved.
• The ones from students who are now in their fifties . . . Thank you, God, for the opportunity to meet all these children and their families.
• The gummy lumps made by my kids in preschool . . .Thank you, God, that I’ve been a mother for 39 Christmases. 
    
• The ornaments from friends, including boiling test tube ones and ones from faraway places . . . Thank you, God, for the bounty of friendship.
  

And I thank God for you, my readers.  It is such a blessing to connect with you, even if we’ve never met, through words and the universality of life experiences.

“Oh by golly have a holly jolly” time with friends and family this year.  May 2019 bring you happiness and health.

Sandy