I know, here you are expecting a delish and delightful holiday recipe or quippy tales of my baking escapades. It’s a week before Christmas…that’s how it should be.
But I’m just not there.
The air is heavy. People hearts are heavy.
I know I have to rally for my kids, who I am (so!!!) blessed to have in my home and in my arms. It is their season of wonder and a time for them to enjoy the magic of it all.
But how, I have no idea.
I realized today that I haven’t mailed some gifts that need to go out if they are to make it there for the big day. I’ve made exactly one batch of peppermint marshmallows and one batch of rum balls. Usually by this time, there is a thin film of confectioners’ sugar over everything in my kitchen and I’m burning through butter like Julia Child on a warpath. I’m still hunting for the last stocking stuffers.
I’m just not feeling it .The magic seems to have left the building this year.
I have much-so much- to be grateful for, especially in light of recent events.That alone is worth celebrating and celebrating big. But it’s difficult when you know that there are parents out there who have also bought little stocking stuffers but there won’t be a small hand reaching in to retrieve them with delight. I just about crumble when I think of their holiday this year and for years to come. It’s too mindbending, frankly, and if they can recover somehow from all of this, they are heroes themselves, for that would be truly heroic.
For my girls, though, I will try to rally. We will make our sugar cookies this weekend and our Italian pizzelle co0kies that they steal off the counter almost as fast as I’m making them. We will hang our stockings and read our Night Before Christmas. I will pause and marvel at their hands reaching into those stockings.
I will send as many good thoughts to those parents out there who cannot see the wee hands again and smell their sweetness.
I will marvel and appreciate. And wait for the magic to reappear.