Heather's Hill and Plentiful Love

I’ve been a little sad lately, it’s probably evident from my posts. There isn’t a good reason for it, it just is. 

I get like this around the holidays, too many memories of family who are no longer with me. Wishing I could go back and wake up in my Oma and Opa’s house, sneak downstairs to find my grandfather hiding around the corner to surprise me and wish me a merry Christmas. He’d gather me in his arms, sit down in his big chair with me on his lap as we gazed at the Christmas tree. He’d tell stories about the sleigh rides Grandpa Slade would take the family on, and how Grandma Slade and his sisters would be bundled up in their furs as my great-grandfather’s horses led them through the fields of Elma.

My grandmother would be in the kitchen getting the potato pancakes ready, and we would turn on the console record player and play Christmas carols. I remember sitting at the dining room table looking out over what my Oma called Heather's hill, knowing that later that morning, friends from down Ostrander Road would gather on that hill to show off their new sleds and saucers. It seemed we all got new ones for Christmas. Sledding on the hill are among my best childhood memories.

Almost always, during our Christmas breakfast, a bright red cardinal would land on the bird feeder that was just outside the dining room window. When I close my eyes, I can see its beauty against the white, snowy background.

Later in the day we’d gather at one of the aunt’s houses and most of the family would be there. The women would be in their tartan plaids, the men in dress shirts and ties. The food would be plentiful, but not as plentiful as the love.

I am surrounded and filled with plentiful love in my life now too, from my little family—Doug, Frank and Beckett, and our extended family, and friends. Today and tonight will be a celebration of all of the love we have in our lives. Our house will be filled with friends, who mean the world to us. There will be laughter and conversation, good friends we haven’t seen since last year, and sometimes longer. I miss my grandparents, and my mom, and all my aunts and uncles who are no longer with us, except in spirit. Rather than being sad, I want to celebrate those memories today and through the year.