Happy New Year Readers!

Yes, it’s February, but with everyone saying January “doesn’t count” and calling for a do-over start to 2025, here goes.

My family has the long-standing (albeit nerdy) tradition of watching the Twilight Zone marathon on SyFy every New Year’s Eve. We would break around 10 PM to attend church service before racing back to my mom’s for a breakfast extravaganza. 

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Any breakfast food imaginable to eat, celebrated with family and friends. This would carry on until 3 AM where we would continue our twilight zone marathon watching in between cat-naps.

Later in the day, we would take down the Christmas tree and decorations and stuff ourselves (again!) with a huge dinner. And, of course, more of the twilight zone marathon.

Holidays were so steeped in tradition that we look back with fond memories of them. It made celebrating so special. 

It’s no wonder when we start to lose our loved ones, we feel sad…sometimes to the point of not celebrating these times.

While my mom is no longer with us, each holiday celebration I feel her spirit and hear her laughter so I can’t help but to feel joyful.

I take comfort in knowing that grief lasts a short time but memories a lifetime.

It’s in the tradition my mom created for me that I am filled with hope.

And where there’s hope.. there’s a way.