Let’s have holidays on our own terms

Dear President Trump,

Did the Ghost of Real Life visit you last night? If so, whose dishes did you do? It would be good for you to visit different families across the country and the world, especially those dealing with war, drug gangs, and famine. You could, of course, walk to the White House kitchen and physically, while you are awake, do dishes, which would be an even better empathy booster.

After all my fussing about how not in the Christmas mood I felt, things have turned around. We are having our daughter’s biological mother and grandmother over for Christmas dinner tomorrow and we found out yesterday that some of our oldest friends are going to join us as well. Usually our friends visit family, but this year the plan fell through because of a father/grandfather’s wish that they not witness his struggle with depression. He is a veteran, so I gave our friend some VA resources to pass along to her mother. I also suggested some safeguards that her mom might want to employ. I know that his demographics (older, white, male veteran) are not in his favor. I know all this doesn’t exactly conjure the expected merry and bright aspects of Christmas, but I’m grateful our friends are joining us and grateful for the VA’s ability to help veterans who are struggling.

Did anyone read “Winnie the Pooh” to you as a child or did you overhear the nanny read it to your children? The gifts I’ve put in Laura’s stocking remind me of what Piglet and Pooh gave Eeyore for his birthday. I found an almost whole roll of not-too-scented dog poop bags yesterday when I walked the dogs and today on my run I found a ripped yellow smiley face balloon I stretched over a jar lid so you can see the face part. I think she will love them. I’m also putting a partially knit fingerless glove in there. I have a feeling she’s already on to me with the gloves but the poop bags and the torn balloon will be real surprises. 🙂

May we be safe to have holidays on our own terms.
May we be happy to put ourselves in one another’s shoes.
May we be healthy enough to get help when we need it.
May we guard with loving ferocity our commitment to peace and compassion.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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