As I struggle to release the lovely chaos of Christmas while boxing the ornaments, Christmas miniatures, hearth greens, Santa collection and Christmas crèche, I take a deep breath and inhale the stillness of this cold, quiet January morning. There was a time—when our children lived under our roof—when I dreaded the “let down” of January.  I missed the hustle and bustle of shopping or crafting the just-right gifts for family…

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One morning last week I woke to a light dusting of snow—maybe two inches.  There is something odd about snow resting on yet-green grass and stubbornly clinging to bright yellow- and rust-colored leaves.  Two seasons collided in my yard, and although beautiful, it just didn’t seem right.  But nature, as it is, does her own thing, and she certainly doesn’t ask my permission. When I was a child, I wanted…

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I dreamed the other night that I was walking with a man dressed in bib overalls.  He was my father—who has been dead 55 years.  My father is showing me the house he built.  The site is beautiful, and I am happy for that.  The house is on a rise overlooking a valley.  He is proud of his accomplishment and is obviously hopeful that I will appreciate it. My father…

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At the beginning of every Christmas season, my emotions go through a roller coaster process that leaves me a bit shaken. As it is with so many others, my early memories of Christmas have been—painful. I know I am not alone. I know there are many who can identify. The process starts when I don’t want to put away my fall decorations: the pumpkins, miniature bales of hay, faux brightly-colored…

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