It's been one and a half months since my Dad died. Even now typing those words still takes the breath out of me.
I want to remember him in his blue chair in his living room, with the pink crabapple tree blossoming outside the window, where his grandchildren would climb into his lap and he would read them story after story using all the best voices - just like he did for me when I was little.
Santa is everywhere at Christmas, is there room for both, is it okay to enjoy the festivities that a fake guy in a suit brings while knowing the reality of the true gift of forgiveness? Yes!