Christmas

Day 32 – December 25, 2025

Christmas morning arrived quietly this year. No rush. No obligations. No big plans waiting on the other side of sunrise. Just the soft glow of the tree lights and the slow realization that the day had begun whether I was emotionally prepared for it or not.

Roger woke up before I did. Which is impressive because that dog treats sleep like a competitive sport. He immediately decided Christmas morning meant it was time to inspect every corner of the apartment like a furry building inspector.

I made coffee and sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket letting the room stay quiet for a while.

And something strange happened. I didn’t feel sad. Not the way I expected to. There was loneliness flickering around the edges of the day, sure. That’s inevitable when the calendar says family holiday and your life currently looks nothing like a holiday movie.

But the loneliness didn’t swallow the room. Instead there was something else. Stillness. The kind of stillness that feels fragile but real. Like my nervous system finally unclenched its jaw for a few hours and decided to let the day exist without interrogating it.

I let myself enjoy small things.

The glow of the lights on the tree. The way Roger’s ears twitch when he’s dreaming. The absurd amount of whipped cream I added to my coffee like I was starring in a low budget Christmas film about emotional recovery. Tiny moments.

And honestly, tiny moments are doing most of the heavy lifting in my life right now.

I thought a lot today about gratitude, which felt almost inappropriate considering everything that’s happened this year. But gratitude doesn’t look the way it used to. It’s not big sweeping statements about life being beautiful.

It’s quieter now. Grateful that I reported what happened. Grateful that I’m still breathing. Grateful that the people who love me are real and not just theoretical. Grateful that Roger exists.

Christmas used to feel loud. This year it felt soft. And maybe that softness fragile as it is the closest thing to peace I’ve found in a while.

Chaos in one hand. Grace in the other.

And me grateful I’ve made it this far.