Singing new songs

I’d nearly forgotten that it was two years ago tonight when my husband Richard passed until I saw a reminder on Facebook this morning.

I surely had forgotten how to celebrate Christmas in the days and years leading up to Richards’s death and right after.

But this year, I awoke from the ghosts of Christmas past to a new Christmas.

And it’s a simpler one.

The Christmas tree and the decorations went in a recent move. But they were replaced with a single garland, a string of lights on the mantle, and a handful of ornaments from my daughter.

I found it was enough.

I then went and bought myself a Christmas gift.

It’s a memoir by a local writer I once knew.

And I opened my door and heart to a new dog from the shelter.

That, too, was enough.

Or maybe more so. Time will tell.

And when I attended a crowded church service this week, I gave up my spot to a father and son who were late.

I’d already sung my carols.

It was time for the young.

After driving home on slick roads afterwards, I checked my mailbox for bills.

I found a small box next to it, covered in ice and firmly glued to the front step.

After carefully prying it off, I found a simple candle inside etched with a tree of life.

It’s bright and full of warmth when lit.

Tonight I see the light.

And it’s glowing right before me through that tree.

I have choral music playing softly on public radio.

And the dogs are at my feet.

Together, we’re singing new songs this Christmas.

Busy making our own kind of music.

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