What a difference a day makes.
Yesterday, I was looking forward to my Christmas with all three of my children, their mates and my three grands, everyone under the same roof for the first time in years. A special home cured ham. Grandma Violet's fruit cake. I was lining up the perfect Christmas in my mind.
Less than 24 hours later, those plans have fallen in. Their were tears and regrets. Oddly none of the tears were mine. I was practical, and assuring everyone that we needed to set all the emotion aside and just focus on the practicalities. We're all in agreement really, but we all wish it could be different.
It is what it is. I'm sad, but it almost seems easier now that the decision has been made.
Tim brought down the tree from the attic a few days back, and fresh from quarantine, William was there helping me decorate the tree. He hung bulbs on it and studied the effect. He said, "It is strange, I just remember this tree as being bigger."
Handing him an ornament, I said, "Do you think it might be because you've gotten taller?"
What a difference a year makes.