I give the switch on the cord a quick twist, then stand back and admire the lights. I cup the hanging, worn, red apple in my hand, feel the rough, gaze at glitter that sparkles. It’s hung now on 42 trees–well, except maybe for two or three grief years when we skipped decorations. So make that 39 or 40 years. My new ViBella ornament dangles next to it and above that the Hallmark “Remembered with Love” heart I bought after my mom died. It’s its first hanging, since we grieved last year.
I suppose it’s time to box Christmas up.
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In the stillness,