Holiday plans...

a year-end holiday.

A couple of weeks ago, at my hair appointment, one woman asked another about her plans for Christmas.

“Soft and slow,” she said. She gave us a gentle smile. Her hair was covered in strips of silver foil, and a black plastic cape was around her shoulders.

Photo by Lera Kogan on Unsplash

My shoulders relaxed as I exhaled. Soft and slow. I smiled at her.

Soft and slow. The woman styling my hair smiled too. “Soft and slow,” she said.

Three women, middle-aged and elderly, we instinctively knew what she meant. A holiday without stress, with time for expressions of love. A time to hold those who are grieving, or sick, or scared. To welcome into our private homes those who have been away or next door, without expectation or judgment. To remember who and what we love and live for.

magazine cover of christmas dinner

We have all been through the Christmas on the covers of magazines at the checkout lane in the supermarket. The holiday with homemade gingerbread houses, color-themed Christmas trees, matching tableware, and a smiling family of ten around a genuine oak table, with a big turkey in the middle. We have produced that kind of Christmas, or tried to. We know by now that it’s the magazine photographers who create those images. And Norman Rockwell, whom we love, but did he ever cook Christmas dinner? We bought those magazines because we wanted that kind of Christmas. But it was hard. And it was fast.

We know better now. We have lost people. We have gained friends. We have new family members. We have survived most of our lives. And we know what we cherish. We know what will last long into the coming new year.

May we have what we love most this Christmas. May the holiday fall soft upon our homes, our families, our friends. May it be slow enough to savor. The darkest night of the year is coming fast. Let’s draw together and prepare to greet the light of love.

(Back next month: what I’m reading, where I’m walking, and my new book: Time Is a Pilgrim!)