In the photograph I am sitting in front of our Christmas tree, wearing a beautiful white dress and holding my brand new Barbie. I am the middle child, my little sister on my left similarly attired and our older brother sits to my right. It's a Norman Rockwell moment, and it's not surprising that it was captured on film. My grandfather was an amazing photographer and there are many such memories in the albums at my mother's house. This one is held in my memories, clear as can be, and cherished for it's innocence. Love, family, Christmas, what more could one want? I must have been around 7 years old, and I convince myself that I am not just remembering the picture, but the actual moment it was taken. So secure with my place in the world, and unaware of the darkness that was on the horizon.
I sat down this morning prompted to write by the little Christmas tree that sits by my desk. Maybe 8" high and mounted in a small burlap sack it is about as far as you can get from a real tree. Yet it invokes in me the feeling of Christmas, and I am grateful for this much needed season of good will, and joy. I have been very fortunate in the past couple of months to have a safe, warm, home to recover in, and a loving daughter to care for me. And each day I feel stronger and better prepared to face the world. Well, not the big one, but the small one I have created for myself.
I'm not sure where I am going with this, or why I am remembering that moment from my childhood, but I am inspired to take a picture of my grandchildren in front of the tree that is currently glowing merry and bright in the living room.
'Tis the Season. May we only remember what is good, and celebrate the wonderfulness of the here and now.
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