For some reason, and I don't know why and will not question it; I am completely and absolutely enamored of this Christmas season.
Not feeling jaded; no not me.
Not blinking and bewildered, nope.
Feeling fulfilled, unhurried and at peace.
We did visit my dad's grave for the first time yesterday. Parker, Ryan and I drove down to Nana's, picked up her and the wreath and then drove out to Ft. Logan Military Cemetery. Lots of the graves had holiday sentiments, presents, fresh flowers and wreaths on them. It was actually rather lovely.
Ryan had a hard time with it. He clung to his PopPop's grave marker and looked very sad. His eyes welled up twice. My mother and I were crying off and on. Parker, Mom and I visited other graves, noting that some of the military deceased were VERY old (100! Lots over 90!) and some were very, very young.
As usual, there was a good mood-breaking bit of mirth: I had Mom and the boys pose at the grave, centering the wreath. Finally, Parker quipped, after much posing and shooting; "You DO know this is not PopPop's grave, Right?..." to which Mom and I burst out laughing and then shuffled them forward, to my dad's grave to do it All Again.
Also, I'm tossing in this photo of a padded floor quilt I made for a dear teacher at school who's just had her second. The play blankie is bigger as there will be two chilluns reclining on this most of the time.