It almost sounds like an alarm bell. It’s the countdown to Christmas. This is where my dreams for the perfect Christmas and the expectations that I’ve created for myself are going to meet for a little chat. It’s entirely possible, as I’ve seen it happen every single year, that my expectations think that they are going to run the show. I’ve allowed that to happen every year. Every minute of every day, from December 1 until the ending bell on December 24 at midnight has been a race to get it done. Somewhere in time, in my mind, the perfect Christmas morning was born. And each year I’ve appointed myself QUEEN LYNEE’, making it my job to recreate said perfect Christmas morning. This year things are going to be just a bit different. Why, you ask? The answer is because this is the season that holds all of my little girl magic and I want to slow down long enough to savor the flavors of it. I want the smells of it to linger in the air. I want to notice the glint of silver on freshly fallen snow.

A count down screams that the end looms near. It’s a giant clock that ticks away time.  I’m not going to do that to myself. Not anymore.  This is December 1, 2020. Today the world turns a page to Christmas stories, young and old. It’s time for songs to play that we learned for our school Christmas programs. It’s time to sit under a soft and cozy blanket and watch the fire.  Today begins the season where we all slow down to say Merry Christmas to one another and smiles are given to strangers and our hearts mend and our love grows.

This year I’m going take the time that my tears have needed…let my tears have time to fall and allow my heart to yearn to see the faces of my loved ones that won’t be here this Christmas. It’s a blur…Christmas. So many people that I love that have transitioned before me. I miss them every year, but at Christmas…I miss them with my very soul. I can feel them near, and my memories of them makes me whole again. Tears are healing when we allow them time to fall.

The perfect Christmas morning is a feeling of being home again. It lives in my little girl memories where we would wake early and run to see what Santa had left for us. Our mom always found a way to make it so very special. We never even knew that we were poor. Now that is Christmas magic.

My desire to create the magic for my family and friends is strong. It’s what beats my heart at Christmas time. But, when I feel that all too familiar squeeze of anxiety…well, that’s the moment that I throw off my Queen of Christmas hat.   There’s no joy in failed expectations.  I just have to remember what is truly important is the time I’ll take to make treasured memories. I’ll cook the dinners and slow down enough to taste it. I’ll make the cookies and take the time to enjoy decorating them…and I’ll enlist my family to help. I want to be in the pictures this year. I want to look at old family pictures and share stories of my grandmother’s perfect Christmases and the joy that I had and have today because of her and because our mom worked so hard to prove that magic does exist. And it did and it does.

They say Christmas is for children and maybe so…but it’s for me and for you, too. The light that lives in the eyes of a child when Santa has come is the brightest of lights. It’s that light that begs to be replayed over and over that keeps me just wishing for those moments again and again. That light…..it’s love. That’s what it is. It’s unbridled and unapologetically love.  And that love is contagious. It’s why I’ve worked so hard every year, to create the place and time so that love has a safe place to live.  And it’s Christmas time that warms the heart and allows us to be kind…all of us. Kindness is love, too. Isn’t it wonderful to see it on every corner? A smile and a wish for everyone to have a Merry Christmas.  Yeah, I don’t think that I’ll work so hard this year. I think that love will find its way. My job will be to enjoy this Christmas season. Oh, I’ll do my part, for sure, so I’m going to check my list and check it twice and then sit with a cup of eggnog and watch Elf for the 100th time and I’ll laugh and  leave the rest to Santa.