I Already Miss You, Nat King Cole...

Taking the Christmas tree down was a bittersweet activity yesterday. Unlike the evening we gathered to decorate, Nat King Cole and his Christmas carols were silent; no anticipation in my grandson's eyes or the smell of Swedish coffee bread hot from the oven... just memory after memory making me smile as each ornament was lifted from its branch.

After the final ornament was layered in a box for next time, I stopped to look at the star. The lights lit up the ceiling with wings of color, flying me back to a small apartment 45 years ago, when short on money, we fashioned a tree topper out of a wire hanger in our closet, and wrapped the little tinsel we had around its shape. This same star has been the final "cherry on top" of our tree ever since—scraggly, worn but still sparkling all the love Scott and I felt so many years ago. (You can see more about the star here)

I began to reminisce about all the ways Christmas trees have been the backdrop to my life:

When I was about 10 years old, and "Santa" knocked on our front door on Christmas eve with five presents for us in his pillow case bag. It was magical!

And then on Christmas morning, how we had to line up on the stairs, waiting for Dad in his plaid robe to turn on the Christmas music, for Mom to start the coffee BEFORE we could scramble down to see what Santa brought us. Oh, the waiting!

And then there's memories of Christmas past with family...

One's where we welcomed a new grand baby...

or missed someone whose chair was empty that year.

I love that each year when the furnace hums, the candles flicker in the windows, the boxes are brought up, and Nat King Cole once again sings, "Oh Tannenbaum," that all those memories stored for months in the basement, patiently waiting... will again, be the best gift of all.

So with sugar plums dancing around in my head, I thought I would dig out an old "shape poem" I wrote, trying to sum up my feelings of all the memories a Christmas tree holds.

Be sure to stop by this week's POETRY FRIDAY host, Ruth's blog,"There is No Such Thing as a God-Forsaken Town," which comes to us from East Africa today. She shares a lovely winter solstice poem,"Soulful Warming" by Drew Lanham, which reminds us that the light will come back. And boy, do we need that!

Hope your own memories of this past Holiday warm you through these cold, dark days.  Light is coming!

It's Snack Time

Have you ever walked by the chips aisle at your grocery store, resplendent with every crunchy, salty, imaginable temptation, and bite your lip, steering quickly past?

Boy, I have!

We know those snacks aren't good for you, but occasionally I stop and indulge myself.

Well, today... You are in luck, my friend.

I have a snack for you that can be eaten one tiny bite at a time, has zero sodium and calories, and is sure to make not only your tummy, but your spirit feel better.....

It's...

Yep, sometimes plain, sometimes spicy. Poetry Chips may feel delicate in your mouth or pack a real good crunch. It is a bag of deliciousness that will constantly surprise and satisfy...

...and I bet you can't eat just one!

Poetry comes in fun bite-sized nibbles,

or extra large portions

Poems also come in a variety of flavors like:

playful,

vintage,

and meaningful... to name a few.

Like Forrest Gump said,

"Poetry is like a box of chocolates.

You never know what you're gonna get."

Forgive me... I took some artistic license there ;)

Go ahead, pull up a chair, grab your favorite beverage, and join me in 2026 for a nice, relaxing bowl of "Poetry Chips." Let's get crunchin'!

Below are the Poetry Friday Roundup links through June.

Click on the link for that day. You will see a poem from our host and also see links to other poets' blogs for more deliciousness. I will be hosting for the first time in May. I hope you will stop by!

Thanks to Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core this week, for kicking off 2026 for us!

She has a surprising poem knitting together the month of January with a skein of yarn! Wow!

Happy New Year, Everyone!

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Poetry Friday Roundups

January

2 Catherine at Reading to the Core

9 Ruth at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town

16 Jan at Bookseedstudio

23 Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference

30 Amy at The Poem Farm

February

6 Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone

13 Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge

20 Susan at Chicken Spaghetti

27 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche

March

6 Karen at Karen Edmisten*

13 Linda at TeacherDance

20 Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies}

27 Marcie at Marcie Flinchum Atkins

April

3 Matt at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme

10 Jone at Jone Rush MacCulloch

17 Heidi at my juicy little universe

24 Irene at Live Your Poem

May

1 Patricia at Reverie

8 Cathy at Cathy Stenquist

15 Rose at Imagine the Possibilities

22 Carol at The Apples in My Orchard

29 Mary Lee at A(nother) Year of Reading

June

5 Mona at Mona Voelkel

12 Linda at A Word Edgewise

19 Buffy at Buffy Silverman

26 Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect

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Two Songs at the Cemetery

Not having much voice left after sharing their gift at Midnight Mass, a kind quartet—who knew the 11:30 morning Mass would need music to feel like Christmas—showed up.

After Communion, Chris Tomlin's song, "Noel," sparkled through the arches of St. Mary's.

I closed my eyes and was carried away to perfect peace, as the delicate weaving of acapella notes tugged at my heart. Tears flowed, and when the last notes hung in the air, applause filled the church in thankfulness for the tender reminder of what Christmas is all about....

It's about love.

I offer these lyrics as my poem today.

After church, I was filled with Christmas, as my shoes crackled on the salty pavement. I thought of heading to the cemetery to visit my parents' grave, but the wind was biting at my cheeks and I reasoned that I could always go another day. Turning on the car and feeling the warming heat, I sighed...but something kept urging me to go.

As my car slowly maneuvered down the winding road, I felt a palpable connection to each person standing silently in honor of their loved one or bending over to add some Christmas flowers to the grave. I could almost hear the hushed conversations and words of love being carried on the breeze.

I was comforted in their presence.

When I got out of the car, I noticed a woman sitting alone on a cold granite bench. I turned to walk the other way, then quickly turned back and followed the footprints in the snow.

I took this image as I left the cemetery so I would always remember to pray for her.

"Merry Christmas," I said. "Hope you don't mind, but I couldn't help seeing you sitting here alone and thought I would stop and say hello."

She immediately rose to her feet and gave me the biggest hug. I told her I was sorry for her loss and shared that I was here to visit my mother, Nancy's grave as well.

"My name is Nancy, too" she said. "It's my son's birthday."

Hearing my mother's name, told me I was right where God needed me to be. The connection between Mary and the loss of her Son, Jesus, and this grieving mother was no coincidence.

What followed was a slow, tender conversation between strangers, telling me about her son, who had died at age 26. She proudly wore a tattered Bentley College sweatshirt and brought his favorite beer to toast with him. After a few minutes, I said "Merry Christmas" and told her how nice it was to meet her. With each crunchy footstep toward my mother's grave, I thanked God for urging me to the cemetery.

I spent a few minutes in the cold with my parents, playing Chris Tomlin's song "Noel" on my phone and just talking to them. My shadow, long from the noontime sun, wrapped across their grave in a hug. "

"You would have loved this song, Mom," I said. "Come and see what God has done," I sang. "We too, had a story of amazing love."

My beautiful mother, Nancy.

Heading back to my car, I saw Nancy's balloons bobbing in the wind and stood by my car, key-ready, for a few minutes... till I felt drawn to go back and see how she was doing.

She giggled when she saw I had come back. We talked some more, and I found out she did not live in town but had brought her son here to be buried near his beloved cousin, who had passed very young.

My heart broke for her.

We stood in quiet together for a few minutes, understanding our shared grief without a word, while the the wind swirled and the sun streamed in.

"I love the balloons you have for your son, I can feel how much you love him..."

Then words snuck out of my mouth I didn't expect...

"Have you sung Happy Birthday to your son yet?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "No."

"Would you like to sing with me?" I asked.

"Sure..." she said.

And for just a moment, the rest of the world melted away and a joyous 'Happy Birthday' sang through the air sent to the heavens to a son so greatly missed.

"I will keep you and your son in my prayers, Nancy," I said. I am so happy to have met you.

Thank you Chris Tomlin, for your poetic words, this Poetry Friday after Christmas. Your words reminded me of what God had done today, stirring my heart to say hello and thus healing both our hearts...

...just a little bit.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Don't hesitate the next time a passing thought

urges you to say hello to a stranger.

There are blessings waiting to be had.

Thank you to Tricia for hosting today at The Miss Rumphius Effect. Head on over to read her beautiful sonnet about finding peace this Christmas in the chaos, and to discover some other lovely poems from my friends.