Great Wintry Expectations
mom, Winter, xo (1)
It's the start of a new year. The tree and her decorations are taken down, we set out the King's cake and simmer wassail on the stove as we undecorate. It is the twelfth night of Christmas. Ford unhooks ornaments that we made together when Chas was a newborn, little salt dough disks that we stamped lace and dots and little fingertips into, then painted with watercolors. His personal favorite though, a small gourd etched into an owl's likeness, is gently placed among them. I walk around the tree, collecting lengths of tiny lights, still lit, already missing the smell ...