All Cried Out

Today as I prepare to talk about friendships for an afternoon Tea I'm keynoting, my brother Mark's memory hangs heavily on my heart. 

Isn't he the most debonair Santa Mipps with that beard?

Every year, he participated in these Santa rides for charity, a role which really suited him because of his generous and giving spirit and soul. My sister sent this from today's paper in Madison, a reminder that this is what he'd be doing today, were he still here. Ride on, Santa bikers.

To help process lingering feelings of loss, I tried my hand at a tribute poem this week. I hope that it can serve as a reminder that there are lots of people out there who might be hanging on by a strand of tinsel through the holiday festivities. In fact, it's likely that they're feeling as empty as that chair that their loved one left behind. 

Maybe it's a relative, a neighbor, a student, a colleague. 

Maybe it's someone you've never met, but you see it in their eyes. 

Or feel it with their body language. 

Or hear it in that friend who's not usually this quiet.  

Wanna give someone who's struggling the perfect gift?

Check in on them.

Just one text.

Or better yet, a phone call.

And a coffee or hot cocoa chat.

To let them know that you see them.

And that you love them.

And you're here for them.

It'll be the present that they can keep unwrapping

over and over again as they grieve and heal.

Before I go, a creative craft we tried in my third-grade class.

They turned out so festive and fun.

Add a paper clip to make it an ornament

or a magnet and it's refrigerator decor.

Click {here} for the freebie template on TpT.

Happy holidays, with or without tears.