Christmas time reminds me of all the doors I’ve left open to allow love to walk back through. And though my heart is usually overflowing with so many different kinds of love, this will be my tenth Christmas without my mom; and with that, it feels like the tenth Christmas without my dad too. And it stings. Like embers slowly burning inside the depths of my holiday heart. Because when she went to heaven, he went somewhere too. I still don’t know where, but it hurts. My aunt always told me that little passage – leave the door in your heart open – and it really is a special thought. But that’s where it stays, a thought. Not by my doing, but by his. And if somehow he ever were to stumble on my blog, or maybe he reads it religiously without my knowing, I’d want him to know the door is still open, and that I love him. But it’s up to him to show up. And to stay this time.

Christmas time can bring out the very best versions of people, and the very worst. I try to be my best. But so many people are hurting and this is when it shows. And though it is so unfair to be on the receiving end, I know somehow, the good ones like me are still good. Does that make sense? Even though we see all the nasty, the miserable, the rearing of the ugly head, yet we choose to still be good. We choose. to still. be. good. To do good, pour out good, show up good, teach good, speak out goodness – you get it. 

I’m finding, at the ripe age of 41, that so many people lack purpose, and therefore significance. And I nstead of finding help, or doing the hard and holy work; they spend their lives searching for ways to try to bring other people down. To undermine, undercut, and really under respect the good ones. And truly, they’ve been doing it so long it’s who they’ve become – and how shitty for them? But also, for the ones who’ve done the work, it’s annoying. So what can we do? We can watch repeated patterns, of people who loathe themselves, mirror that outwardly into their kids, their families, their friends, their jobs, and their innocent little worlds just floating around them, suffering from their lack of awareness.

This year I’m giving you the permission you need. Call them out. Tell them their behavior sucks. Or, say no to the invite. Those people don’t deserve to be around your light. They will and do dim it. If you must, spend time with them as far away from a holiday as you can, to protect your peace. 

I’m also giving you the nudge, to try and make things right. Resolution has no timeline; no end date, but it can help you know you did the right thing during a high pressure time.

My mother was so strong. And vibrant. She lit up every room she ever walked into. Any salon I’ve ever worked in, every bar or restaurant I walked in with her, hell, even doctors offices, she would drench that little vestibule with her golden energy, and heads would turn, faces would smile, and everyone was better because she was there. She spoke to everyone with the same enthusiasm and the same kindness, with a sass and a magnetic relatability I haven’t witnessed since. She was your instant friend. She rooted for you. She was just so fucking special. And I miss her. And while other years in the past have felt a little lighter, this 10th Christmas without her feels heavy again. And so, once again, for the first time in a while, I wanted to write about lessons she’s still teaching me from heaven. From the ways she handled people, the way she loved people, and the way she kept clear boundaries so the same people didn’t cross her twice.

I’d do anything to have my mother sitting at my dinner table ANY DAY OF THE WEEK. But I’d kill to have her at Christmas time. I’d love to have her burst through my doors, arms full of food and presents, showing up unannounced – So present I’d forget about any of my fears or stresses. So present I wouldn’t have to ask her for help with the next thing. She’d know where my spoons are, my apron is, and my kids favorite snacks. She’d know how to hug me with all her body and kiss me through my hair. She’d hold me and tell me I’m strong, she’d say whatever I wanted to hear. She’d tell me my sauce needs more salt, and make a face if she couldn’t say it with words. She’d cackle and go in the garage to smoke a cigarette, and she’d steal Dan for a conversation. She’d come back in, clean a little and then sit on the couch with my babies. She’d be here and that’s all I’d need, it’s all I want. Because I still needed her.

In a world of hurrying and impressing, self entitlement and disrespect – she wouldn’t care. She’d march to the beat of her own drum, laughing louder and shining even brighter. And she’d make me feel better for who I am. Because I’m just like her. And that’s my secret weapon in this game of life.

So, in this wild ride of Christmas time – be your most authentic self. It’s magnetic. It’s intangible. It’s the highest form of self respect.

Happy Holidays friends – go hug your mother for me 💜