Special time of year.

I am not really thinking of Christmas as being the highlight as Christmas, or what it has become has been thrust in my face since the Halloween candy got taken off the shelves. This is not what I remember from my young days. A gift was more about someone spending time making something special for people. It was more about families and of course, the church. Now, it is referred to as the festive season for fear of being politically incorrect. It is swamped with commercialism and drowned in greed fest.

That is not why this time of year is special to me. I used to look forward to the winter solstice as it meant  the days would start drawing out again and I could look forward to planting in spring. It also became a time to say goodbye. My husband’s grandfather, who I loved dearly, passed over on the 21st. My own mother passed on the 23rd. Not all gloom and doom, though, as my middle daughter decided to make an early appearance, (by a month), on the 22nd one year.  It was the best Christmas present I have ever had.

Up till now, that is.That daughter’s second child will be arriving very soon and there is another reason right there to celebrate the time of year. Birthdays form place-markers through the year. The strange thing is that the placemarker used to be a what could be described as a bucket, with a whole lot of birthdays clumped in the winter months and the singleton in June. Despite the shift in people, this is still the case. One dear little grandson is a June baby, just like his great grandfather was.

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