from the Brink

This week has been a tough one. Regardless of where you stand along the political divide the latest actions by ICE have been impossible to fathom. Yet here we are, feeling the same unbearable loss we felt on a particular December 14th and September 11th and January 6th. I don’t want to write about this latest pain like I have authority nor do I want to hold you in that place of trauma but I do want to acknowledge our collective outrage and sorrow, and to remind you to do whatever it takes to find a life-raft for your own survival.

Mine is as it has been for over a year, by seeing through the eyes of someone quite precious.

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This Christmas Morning

In my youth Christmas meant grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and all the cheery music and contagious laughter of the season. Christmas meant going to church and driving to Brooklyn and wearing velvet dresses. Christmas meant giving to everyone and was crowded with family all doing the same thing year after year after year until traditions changed and then it was something else for years more before it changed again to something different every year. But Christmas is a feeling that tingles like joy does. Small and quiet and then huge.

Brooklyn family Christmas 1960's

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Lucky Stars

I find myself satiated by the joy this little guy brings with his every hop and bounce into whatever and wherever. He is on the ready with an easy yes when it comes to any adventure under the sun or moon. I no longer think of what I gave up to move across the whole country to prance about with him; I count my lucky stars that we did.

star decorations with child

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