I am here. I am still celebrating the season with my family. I can. I will. I must. Not celebrating the small moments, the tender exchanges, the highs, the lows would be wrong even though I know evil has happened and will happen again.
Celebrating life. Celebrating goodness and hope is the only way I know how to truly honor the lives of those who are gone.
And so I am celebrating, but it is with a subdued sensibility. I'm slowing down. I'm appreciating what I have and not moaning about what I can't or don't have right now. I am grasping for moments of happiness amidst the storm.
I'm making goodies, looking up recipes, hanging out with my College Kid whenever she shows up--often with her friends and usually followed by a sleepover. I am grateful for this time. For all of it. I know it is a gift. The real gift that I am opening is every day, every moment, every small exchange while sitting around just doing nothing but "being."
I treasure this gift. I don't take it for granted. I know it is fleeting.
So this season is filled with somberness, but also a hopefulness. Because I still believe in good. I still believe that love exists. And I believe that goodness and love will conquer all.
And if I celebrate the season while bearing this truth in mind, then my little corner of the world will shine a light in the darkness.
Be that light. Be that which shines through the darkness regardless of religion, faith, creed.