Au revoir 2018. Bonjour 2019!

Well hello there. Nice to meet you! While I’m unsure how you stumbled upon my blog….welcome. 

I’ve actually neglected my little Folk Fairy for quite some time.  And quite honestly I feel a little bad. Let’s change that to A LOT bad. Poor, little fairy. Oh how I missed her. But 2018 blew by in a flash and I found myself focusing all of my attention on my first novel (more on that later).

So it’s now 2019. Wow! That just sounds strange. But I am embracing a new year. A year that I know that will be full of love, laughter, adventures to share and stories to tell. I am knowfulthat this will be a much better year than the last. Not that 2018 was all bad as it had its wonderful moments too.

I found myself struggling, a lot last year. The air was filled with such hatred and loathing. People against each other and many countries living in disarray and separation. Rather than allow myself to be devoured by the negativity I turned to the study of hygge. 

What is hygge you ask? According to the dictionary it is defined as “a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture)”. I was first introduced to hygge in The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living written by Meik Wiking. Meik happens to be the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute. Can you imagine? A job where you research happiness? How splendid that must be! And Meik was kind enough to share his knowledge with us. I highly recommend his book. He also has written The Little Book of Lykke: Secrets of the World’s Happiest People, which is next up on my reading list. My hope is to one day meet Mr. Wiking and personally thank him for changing my life. Trust me, read his book and you too will be living much more happily. 

The year 2018 brought me many happy times…3 trips to Walt Disney World, a glorious week spent on St. George Island, the completion of my first manuscript, adventures to state parks, learning French (not too well right now but getting there), and many new experiences (too many to list here).

But 2018 also handed me the rough times. I bid farewell to two wonderful men who had both served as mentors to me. Sean Demery, I will never forget your humor, incredible knowledge of music, and strength. Mr. Bill Turpin, you were like an uncle to me. You were so supportive of me and made me feel like family. I shall miss you both. 

We also experienced our first true hurricane since moving to the panhandle. We had no idea of the magnitude and severity of Hurricane Michael until we were given the mandatory evacuation orders. If you’ve ever experienced that, you can understand the pain I felt in my heart, as I looked at my house one last time unsure if it would still be standing when we returned. 

My sister and I packed up what was most important and took our two corgis on a three plus hour drive to Northwest Alabama. The next several hours would be excruciating. The uncertainty of what was occurring at home and the fate of the other evacuees we met at the hotel. 

But we were among the fortunate. Michael spared us by a mere 30 miles. 

Those less fortunate are still struggling. Almost three months later and many areas still appear as war zones. The devastation is like nothing I’d ever seen. 

But from the loss came camaraderie. Neighbors helping neighbors. The outpouring of care from the communities will help the towns rise from the wreckage. I witnessed so many people gathering items for those who lost everything. People came from other areas to pitch in and help where they could, even if it was just offering a hug or a shoulder. And I think these displays of care and compassion helped strengthen our communities and made us #panhandlestrong.

My sister Judy took this photo on our drive back home from Alabama. We left knowing that many of the evacuees we met probably lost everything. But in this time of despair, our two dogs brought smiles to many faces. When I look at this picture, it’s as if Peyton is consoling his brother, Eli. Or perhaps telling him “job well done”. 

At midnight on January first I held tight to all the good memories and allowed the bad to float off into the darkness. I look forward to sharing more of my blog with you because I have a lot of stories swirling around in my head. I am also on a cooking adventure where I will be experimenting with new recipes and promise to post the results…good or bad… right here with my little Folk Fairy by my side.

Oh I almost forgot. Earlier I mentioned that I was focusing much of my time last year on my first novel. The title is The Inheritance. It’s the first installment in a trilogy of books. I am currently in the process of submitting query letters to literary agents and publishing companies. So please stay tuned. I am ready to introduce the world to Cayla. I have it on good authority that you all will really like her.

Until we meet again, spread some sparkle into the world. Trust me, there are many who need it. Oh and be sure to pick up one of Meik’s books. I promise you will not be disappointed. 

Cheers!

Happy Christmas? (My Thoughts)

I will always remember Christmas as being a happy time when I was a child. The lights, the Christmas tree, decorations, holiday carols. These all brought joy to my heart.

Growing up Catholic we observed the tradition of Advent. I found this to be special not only because this signified the countdown to Christmas but also because as the youngest child, I was assigned the task of lighting one candle on the wreath the first full week of Advent. In addition I quite enjoyed attending mass. Not so much for the readings or hearing the priest jabber at length about what he felt Christmas was and how we should behave but rather listening to the choir. A multitude of voices lifting on high. This was my connection to the ceremony.

I also recall being afraid to ask Father Christmas or Santa Claus or whomever you might call him, for what I truly wanted for Christmas. I cannot explain why to be totally honest. Perhaps self-consciously I felt guilty about requesting a gift or maybe I feared that what I wanted was out of the norm. Either reason be, I would find myself given very nice and thoughtful gifts but not what I truly wanted.

Growing up, holidays meant family time. This was not inclusive of just my immediate family but also included the aunties, uncles, cousins and grans. Usually the full family gatherings occurred the week between Christmas and the new year. I always cherished this as my favourite time of the holiday season.

However Christmas lost its sense of joy and exuberance the year my father passed away. It seemed as if we all made attempts to pretend my father’s death never occurred in order to keep some happiness in the holiday season. I remember crying myself to sleep that Christmas night. My holiday innocence was lost forever at that moment.

The following Christmas was worse. The vast hole my father’s death ripped in my heart grew larger. Maintaining any happiness became increasingly difficult. But I donned my happy facade in an effort to offer others the happiness that eluded me.

Year after year, the holidays remained a difficult time for me. But I made every attempt to seek out something that would offer some semblance of happiness. My attempts were not always successful but I did find myself enjoying this time a tiny bit more.

Then life threw me a curveball when my mother suffered a stroke from which she would never recover. That last Christmas with her will be ingrained in my memory until my last breath. We all knew it would be the last time we shared the holiday with her. I wanted to deny it and banish any such notions. But deep down I knew that I would never get to share in the joy of Christmas with her again.

I will always cherish the gift she gave me that year. Two photographs. One of my father when he was younger taken perhaps around the time they wed. The other of Mum in her wedding dress. This was the best gift she could have ever given me. You see, she gave me a final memory not only of herself, but my father as well, both in their prime.

The clock reads 12:11 A.M. on the 25th December. I find myself once again trying to capture a slight piece of happiness this holiday. While I am not alone I feel a sense of utter loneliness. I miss the days of full family holidays. I miss the sounds of the choirs raising their voices as one. Perhaps I slightly miss the priest rambling on about Christmas and what it should mean to us. I know I should be happy but deep down the feeling of solace creeps in. I do know the family members I am spending the holidays with will somehow unknowingly help me find the true Christmas spirit I once owned.

I will not give up the battle of uncovering a small semblance of that childhood innocence from years past. I know I am deserving of that. We all are.

I wish I could ask Father Christmas for what I really want for Christmas. What would i ask of him? To fill the vacancy in my heart with the love of my parents that has been lost. Since that is not a reality,  my Christmas wish is that each and every one of you find joy this holiday season. Then hold tight to that joy with all of your might and never let go.

Happy holidays to you and yours.