Whining is so not an option.
But neither can I jump with joy nor do the happy dance.
Last year at this time my beloved husband’s death was too fresh, too raw a wound, to participate in long-held holiday traditions. No greeting cards or email exchanges, no candlelit services. Certainly no jolly family meals.
The remainder of 2015 became a blur, as the transition to widowhood relentlessly intruded on my life. It has since proved to be a steep learning curve.
But in the last twelve months I have been blessed beyond expectation or understanding. I have been bathed daily in love and concern. I have been steered carefully around gigantic boulders and wicked curves by my cherished, watchful family members in every step of this unsought journey.
My soul is graced with peace.
So thank you, dear readers! Thank you for perusing the humble ramblings of an old woman. Thank you for tearing up with me, laughing with me, and pondering the vagaries and oddities of daily life with me. Thank you for walking with me during this first year of the unknown, helping me take baby steps into the future.
Once again I am able to embrace the wondrous joys and hopes of this special season.
And thus pass on to you and yours the sincere wish for a blessed Christmas and an ample New Year.
Thank you so very much.