Christmas Miracles

compromise & absurdity - precious & practical

By the time that you are reading this, my person and my dog are likely asleep in the back of a truck in my parent’s garage as I am tiptoeing around the tree with illicit coffee like a Christmas Mouse.

For my family, this is what letting go looks like.

The bed in the room that was once mine is small - full, rather than royal, swaddled in camouflage, and truly not made for sharing.

The rules of the house define those who may bed share and those who may not (spoiler - it involves a ceremony before God and the State of Colorado), and we? We have chosen the path less traveled by.

And then, there’s the dog.

While everyone who has met her knows she would happily roost in our condo solo for the weekend, with supportive walking relief offered by a neighbor, she is both part of our nuclear family and not permitted in the family home.

And so this is Christmas - a miracle - the union of compromise and absurdity.