miracles.

There are lovely, amazing things to be shared in this life, my friends. But. I can't pretend that Texas and Las Vegas didn't happen. that Charlie Rose didn't break my heart. that black Friday isn't an ugly thing. That a personal family crisis hasn't turned my own life upside down.

I will never believe there isn't room for lovely things, that the sharing of them isn't still important. undeniably, it is, perhaps now more than ever. but to pretend the hard things don't exist, the things that almost break us, render us speechless, hopeless, to go on as if nothing has happened, is happening, will happen, well. I just can't do it.

So, I'm trying to stay steeped in December over here. which really just means I'm busy pinching sap off the ends of Christmas tree branches, to inhale. you know, so I can breathe it in, every chance I get. recently, I showed up for a hospital out patient visit with a few stray pine needles stuck to the side of my cheek and, I don't know. I think this means I might be doing it right.

I Am trying to find places for all the Christmas things I need to be doing right now. I am playing all the Christmas playlists, singing all the songs, baking all the things. wishing for a tiny Christmas miracle. because Christmas is something you do but also, something you feel. something you wear on your heart. It is the celebration of a birth, the birth is hope and without this hope, we are nothing.

I'm mostly at the hospital/doctors these days, comforting when I can. being comforted when I need it, that is, when I've not got my face buried deep in the branches of a Fraizer Fir.  I try to lose myself in the rituals of the day. I tell stories, listen to doctors, hold hands, and pray. and I will not forget to be thankful. but I will also remember. 

Yesterday we celebrated each other with a lunch excursion into Cleveland, to Miss Hickory's Tea Room. We were seated by a table of nicely dressed older women who watched over the place from a table in the corner. Between talking, they sipped lavender tea and devoured cranberry scones. An elderly lady with dyed black hair and polyester pants came in shortly after we did, and the hostess seated her at the next table over. They exchanged greetings and a hug, and she helped her out of her coat. Then she brought her a pot of tea, filled perilously to the rim, and a steaming bowl of chicken stew. She was so quiet and careful, deftly angling her spoon to savor the chunks of chicken and the fat little dumplings that floated on top, and watching her, we all decided to order the same. So we ate, bowls of chicken stew and tiny tea sandwiches. scones with clotted cream and homemade jam. and a heavenly double chocolate cake, and never before, in the history of Cleveland, were there three more stuffed contented people.  We were happy. Then we drove to Whole Foods. Because we needed something healthy.

we bought chocolate.

and ribbon candy.

I was thinking about my Dad earlier today and it made me happy. I let go of all that I am holding onto so tightly, all the self-imposed deadlines and expectations, all the anxiety. all of it floated right out of my body and up into an infinite grey sky. they are hovering now. somewhere over far away, I think.

because really, it's the thought.
And praying for miracles is an everyday thing.

just sayin'.