Where is Christmas?

Outside the warmed wind rattles and scratches against the windows. I can't decide if I'm warm or chilly here in bed beside the cozy space heater. Fingers crossed. Mom may come home on Sunday. I need to work, to prepare, to gather in... But I usually just sleep, shower, go in and sit with her. Probably big changes ahead in the way we negotiate the house. I think it's too soon to really know.

My goal... A warm, safe, quiet Christmas at home with us and anyone else who wanders in. I'm probably not wrapping gifts. What's done was finished before Thanksgiving. None of that really means Christmas. When I was a senior, my family spent the holidays in Quincy Blessing Hospital with my critically ill grandfather. On Christmas Eve night my dad drove through town to look at lights. What I remember are the snippets of families beside the trees, I could glimpse tables alight with candles and faces glowing in the light of those well-lit, C7-bulb trees. At 17, with sixteen happier past holidays, I felt so sad. But it was still Christmas. My Mom and Dad knew where to find it, and I know just where to look, as well.


The dawn today has that famous tint of snow. My car, covered in snow, shouts that it is, indeed, Christmas. I think the weather will bluster and winter forth until noon. Then I still hope to go in to see Mom. Long days in the hospital. Almost ready to be back home again.