Merry Christmas!

 Something you might not know about me, unless you’ve been reading my blog for many years ~ I’m a California girl, originally. I was born in Northern CA. My dad was an optometrist by trade but a scuba diver at heart. He closed his office every Thursday at noon and we would head for the beach where he spent each weekend diving for abalone. I didn’t find out until adulthood abalone is an expensive delicacy; we ate it like hamburger! My mom would say, “I don’t know what to have for supper tonight; I guess we’ll have abalone.”

It was a beautiful life. But when I was three my dad died in a freak pool party accident (only in California, right?) and we moved to my grandparents’ house in Ohio. I stayed really close to my grandparents for the rest of their lives and after we moved to North Carolina we always traveled back “home” for Christmas. 

The road to Ohio took us through misty Appalachian hollows and huge cities, through flat plains and rolling hills. Everywhere, though, were Christmas decorations. Lit-up crosses high on mountain peaks. City boulevards festooned with lighted garlands. Lone blue stars shining from the tops of grain silos.


It always struck me, the sense of community. Everywhere, in every way, people bringing light to the darkness. No matter whether you celebrate Christmas or not, it’s no coincidence every winter religious holiday from Hanukkah to Diwali honors illumination. The days are dark and short, the nights long and even darker.


After my grandparents died my husband and I agreed to stay home for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, giving our children the chance I rarely had, to hang their stockings on their own mantle and open their presents under their tree they helped decorate. We travel to see their grandparents and cousins after breakfast and presents on Christmas Day.


Still, each Christmas Eve, that old sense of adventure steals over me. That feeling of journeying through the darkness, peeking into others’ celebrations, enjoying their decorations, wondering about their everyday lives when the sun is bright and the baubles packed away. That feeling of solidarity with strangers.


This Christmas Eve, no matter what holiday you celebrate, I wish for you to feel that solidarity, that togetherness. We will light our candles and eat our rØmmegrot (“cream porridge” my Norwegian-American grandparents’ traditional Christmas Eve supper) and I hope you feel the warmth of my regard in your heart. 


It’s a magical night, when anything might be around the corner. What will you find in your stocking? What might you see on your travels? Who might you meet? Please know I am thinking of you and wishing you that sense of anticipation as well as all the joy of the season.


Merry Christmas!