Christmas angels

Christmas is a time for joy and celebration, but for a lot of people, Christmas is a very difficult season. For a few friends in particular, these past few weeks have been a struggle to get through. For others, these days remind them of people who aren't here to celebrate anymore, and no matter how much time goes by, you never stop missing them.

At Christmastime, I miss my great-grandmother more than ever. The festive lights always remind me of how we used to drive around and rate houses together, always deciding that although we loved the decked-out gaudy one for its daring, we like the simple white lights best. These should be happy memories, and mostly they are, but I can't recall them without feeling the aching longing for her to be here again and to relive those moments. I'm grateful to have been as close with her as I was, she was an incredible woman.

My beautiful little man is always smiling, laughing, finding something new to explore. His new curiosities are the stuff of professional comic relief and he's recently started giving me kisses - wet, open mouth, protruding tongue kisses on the cheek - and there is nothing in the world that compares with the love that they make me feel for him. He is my Christmas angel. He reminds me of all the beautiful good in this world. Amidst chaos, uncertainty, fear, loss, there is this boy playing in the tub and smiling up at me as though everything is ok. And as strange as it may sound, that gives me hope.