The big holiday push is (almost) over – mostly over because I am not a New Year’s Eve person and usually spend it in bed with wine and my Kindle.
Christmas week was busy but gratifying. I felt the extra responsibility to make sure that Miss L’s Christmas was fulfilling and joyful and that she didn’t feel any sadness or anxiety. I made sure she spent time with everyone she loves, including her dad. It meant a lot of driving and running around for not just me, but my extended family, too, and it brought to mind the old saying about taking a village to raise a child. Everyone in Miss L’s life helped to make her Christmas wonderful, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without that village, especially my parents. They made sure there were lots of gifts under the tree so that Santa could be the hero that he should be in every six-year-old’s eyes. Their generosity and unselfishness where we are concerned – well, it’s true love.
Anyway, the holidays were, for me, what they are supposed to be – displays of love, affection, and connection, the reaffirmation of good relationships.
In the midst of everything, I tried to take some time to give myself a few little presents, too, in the form of moments collected. I spent some time in my favorite place on earth, worshipping the way I do.