One day I woke up and my family was not whole but healed, and “family” was this new-but-old concept where hope and growth and joy were not only possible, but abundantly clear. The cynical me has taken many steps back and I would venture to say has learned to quiet her voice; awe has taken its place. This was gradual, not overnight. And only God knows the reasons why it all felt so broken for so long. The changes are two-fold: the people and the gratitude for the people. And there’s peace, abundantly present for the taking. There is truth that has emerged in my father’s life, if he’ll take it. And there’s my dogs, my joy, my life. And always, like a rock and a beacon, there’s my mother. So many people have gone over the past five years, and have been more meaningful with each passing. I never imagined I’d lose a father-in-law the same year I lost my grandmother. They are with us always.
Count your blessings. You never know when they’ll be gone. You also never know when more will show up.
Merry Christmas.
Erika, Eric, Lola, and Bean
