My Heart is Full of Christmas

{pearls, light pink sweater, chartreuse skirt, metallic/brown vest with fur, brown Hunters, red fingernails. in love with this color combo!}
I’m a sucker for tradition.
Some traditions are more hysterical than others {that wishbone tradition? this year my mom and I both snapped off a short section and the middle ‘wishbone’ part went flying. oops}.
Some traditions are tradition even though we have NO idea why we do them anymore {lutefisk and pickled herring stopped tasting good um…forever ago, literally}.
And some traditions are weighty, worthwhile, and a little bit heart-wrenching. 
Like laying wreaths on family graves. 
This is not a tradition that we generally write about or talk about, but it’s a good one. Oh, it’s a good one.
This is the first year I’ve been present for this tradition, and goodness if the rainy day didn’t suit my mood. I tried hard to smile for these pictures (you should see the ones where I didn’t try. actually, you shouldn’t). I wasn’t somber, really. I wasn’t heartbroken, really. I just felt the weight of it inside my poet’s heart. It feels beautiful to lay wreaths in remembrance this time of year.

Don’t forget to let your heart feel the weight of tradition. It is healthy to remember and reflect, so long as we seek to take strength from there to carry us forward. We mustn’t belong to the past, but we can let the past belong to us in a deep part of our selves, should we want.

My heart is full of Christmas.
It is full of the meaning of the Savior’s birth, so that, as my grandpa’s grave boldly states:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,
because through Jesus Christ the law of the Spirit who gives you life has set you free from the law of sin and death.” 
Romans 8:1, 2
What a powerful statement.
Hold Christmas in your hearts, my dears. Hold memories, blessings, and the hope in the promise that we shall be reunited one day, close to your hearts this Christmas season. 
Much love,