Saturday, December 12, 2020

I spent a few hours this afternoon delivering goodies to several dear-to-my-heart ladies in the neighborhood. These women came out into their respective driveways to greet me. Some of them I had not seen in person for months, and even though I was wearing a mask, I hope each one saw the delight in my eyes. I miss my friends. I miss hosting Christmas parties. Teleparty and Zoom are the most feasible substitutes this year, but I miss hugs.

Each lady and I talked about what Christmas would be like in 2020, and every single one has had to alter plans. Most of us will likely be missing “the regulars” from our celebrations; children, parents, siblings, and close friends are not reuniting with us for fear of the spreading the CoVid-19 virus even further.

The risk is real. Our hearts are heavy, and yet, not as heavy as the hearts of those who have lost loved ones due to the pandemic. The infection numbers are staggering, and the daily death toll climbs higher, and even though the vaccines are obtaining government approval, we still don’t feel very hope-filled or joyful.

I have been thinking, all day long, about my family’s level of acceptable risk. Maybe I should just tell the out-of-state son to stay away. And maybe I should just tell the out-of-town daughter that she can drive home for the day, but her mask must stay on.

Oh, how I wish I had a crystal ball, and how I wish I could look into the future and see a spectacular Christmas 2021–that would make this year easier to bear.

For now, I am still baking and planning holiday meals, and whenever that damned “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” song pops up on any of my playlists, I will just hit the mute button.

This cocktail is often called a Whiskey Stone Sour. In a shaker with ice, combine 2 ounces orange juice, 1 1/2 ounces whiskey (I actually used Maker’s Mark bourbon), and 3 ounces sour mix. Shake well, strain into a glass, and add a maraschino cherry.