The Stillroom

this is a little fireplace my dad made me many years ago. The same flicker bulb still lights. I really miss my dad a lot.

My writing was way off this week because the chemo was so grueling.

I have a new chapter of my journey starting next week. I did quite a bit of meditation and soul searching and have come to meet my future standing on my own two feet. On my terms.

Today, I will be remembering the ghosts of all my Christmas’ pasts. There are many. Aunt Betty and Uncle Steve around the old upright piano at grandma Patrick’s house when I was a wee one. Christmas carols and drinks and laughter and fun. Yes, we were that family in the later fifties and early sixties!

The present ghosts are many. We still fill a room of thirty or so. Only now it’s a gift exchange and music that streams from a cloud! One must always have music!

As for the future. Not so sure where I will be fitting in that picture. Don’t worry, dear reader, if I’m not around around, trust me, I’ll be in everything you see.

Merry Christmas my loves.

My friends.

My family.

I may not see you every day, but know I have loved you from afar.

Alaways