Sunday

Today is Sunday. As I lay here belly down, diagonally across our bed with the bright blue sky outside our floor-to-ceiling windows illuminating my face, I can hear Sean chatting away on the phone with a far-away friend about our wedding plans.

On my left hand shines my most cherished 1940s yellow gold diamond ring, a family heirloom that is more perfect than anything I tried to imagine wearing on my finger before he asked me to marry him along the tiny northern lakeshore at his cottage on a September evening. A canoe parked behind us, jeans rolled up, feet in cold water and the dark forest surrounding us.

2020 has been something. A whole lot of unexpected life events that kept billowing outwards from the centre of a global pandemic. This year will not be forgotten, for so many unfortunate reasons, although little glimmers of good have poked through here and there.

I'm optimistic that 2021 will be merrier and the world we see a steady progression of recovery on all fronts. I hope we can celebrate our summer wedding without too much hassle, as many others hope as well. Regardless, it's all meant to be, I believe, and there are always things to learn about ourselves and the world around us when we experience grief. No need to dwell.

It's a slow day for us today. Meal planning, grocery shopping, a chilly walk outside, a hearty Sunday night dinner and perhaps a movie will make up this day before we enter a new week. I'm eagerly awaiting the delivery of my string lights for our new Christmas tree, adorned with homemade dried orange slices and pinecones from the park across the street.

I love Christmastime, albeit a little different this year.