Christmas and nostalgia often go hand in hand. Sometimes that old, familiar longing settles a little too heavily in my chest, causing my heart to ache and my eyes to sting. Memories seem to have their own pulse — one that keeps beating in my ears, again and again.
I planned to make a list of what I miss about Christmas. I rummaged through old photos and found several gems — ghosts of Christmas past. But instead of making a list (and checking it twice), I chose something different.
Here are a few moments, captured on film and held in my heart. ❤️
When Dad had 70s hair. Before elf on the shelf, there were four on the floor.Before matching pajamas. Before filters. Before we knew what a ‘vibe’ was. Christmas, 1970s edition.1976: Mom in the middle. All of us close.Grampy and Grammy, circa 1985. Christmas with the people who made it feel safe, warm, and steady.A quiet moment between my grandma and my baby sister.Matching dresses, tiny hands, and Christmas magic — 1994.Christmas 1997 — me in the middle, holding the whole world in my lap.Two sisters, one giant bear, and a season full of magic.The beginning of us. Before we knew how much life we’d share—or how deeply I’d love this man.Saying “I do,” surrounded by our family and the certainty that this was home.After the ceremony—just us, winter air, and a promise.Same lights, new little faces.
Our last Christmas with Steve. We celebrated later than planned. I’m grateful we did.
Nostalgia braided with sadness isn’t weakness. It’s love with nowhere to land right now.
Menopause & Malarkey 