Winter Begins

The first day of winter was yesterday. It was the solstice. A gentle and loving text from my cousin reminded me that it was the darkest day of the year; the day with the least amount of sunlight. Her text finished by saying she knew my heart was closer to this day than the bright light of Christmas that was coming so soon after this dark day.

Those words stayed on my mind all day. They provided comfort, because even though we haven’t spoken, she knew my heart and the heaviness it was feeling. I was shocked she could know those feelings and put it into perfect words for me.

I struggled, my heart engaged in a tug of war with itself. Pulling hard, from one side to another and back again; wanting to stay in the dark of the solstice day, and then wanting to move away from that darkness.

So, I have decided that if yesterday was the darkest day of the year, I have 364 days that will contain more moments of illumination. It won’t be noticeable as we progress from one day to another. The moments of brilliance will creep in gently and quietly. They will slip in when we aren’t looking, or paying a bit of attention. But, 4 months from now, I will certainly catch myself talking to a friend, and I will be shocked (like I am every year) that the kids are able to play outside longer, and bedtimes have gotten a little later, and “Wow. The days are longer and brighter.”

So I have put myself on that path; the one that opens up a little more sunshine to every day. And as I walk this road, I will be devoted to allowing that sunshine to touch my heart. I may need a new pair of sunglasses soon…..;)

A final event locked up my thoughts over the last 24 hours. This afternoon, Cole sat to watch an old Christmas favorite, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. You know the one, Jim Carrey is the Grinch, Anthony Hopkins narrates, and Dr. Seuss’s incredible story is brought to real-life, instead of a cartoon world. You almost believe that Who-ville exists, we just haven’t visited it yet.

I watched as I cooked and cleaned and played with Campbell and Courtney. My sister came home from running errands and sat on the sofa. For the last 30 minutes of the movie, Campbell settled into my lap and we sat together to watch the end. 

And then, the credits started. Faith Hill’s incredible diva voice filled the family room with Where Are You Christmas? I’ve always loved this song, but today it earned a new place in my heart and took on new meaning. I cried. Deidre cried. Campbell cried because we did, and admitted (again) that she missed her YaYa, and wanted me to go to heaven to bring her home for Christmas.

I’ve printed the lyrics, so you can see that this song, that is initiated from a sad, confused and possibly angry heart ends with acceptance. That acceptance comes from love; pure and unconditional and never ending. (But I encourage you to listen to the song, it’s so much more powerful than just reading the lyrics.)

Happy Holidays my friends. I hope all your hearts can be filled with love, and acceptance for what brings your heart pain.  d

Where are you Christmas?

Why can’t I find you?

Why have you gone away? Where is the laughter

You used to bring me

Why can’t I hear music play?

My world is changing

I’m rearranging

Does that mean Christmas changes too?

Where are you Christmas

Do you remember

The one you used to know

I’m not the same one

See what the time’s done

Is that why you have let me go

Christmas is here

Everywhere

Christmas is here

If you care

If there is love in your heart and your mind

You will feel like Christmas all the time

I feel you Christmas

I know I’ve found you

You never fade away

The joy of Christmas

Stays here inside us

Fills each and every heart with love

Where are you Christmas

Fill your heart with love Where are you Christmas?

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