There’s a practice in my culture where you’re not supposed to eat when a grandparent (and perhaps any close relative) dies. I think the reasoning is that being overcome by grief makes you lose your appetite.
When I was a kid I used to think it was symbolic of the fact that the grandparent was no longer around to care/provide for the grandchild.

My great-aunt passed away this morning, in the same hospital my grandmother (her sister) died almost three decades ago.
We called her Aunty Yaa, and she was the last of my grandmother’s siblings alive, a generation has passed on.
My siblings and I, we sort of owe our existence to her – she introduced my parents (before they’d be parents) and played matchmaker, but I don’t hold that against her.
She lived a long, long fulfilling life and always treated me lovingly; I lived with her and my great-uncle Dan briefly when my parents’ marriage ended.
They’d recall stories of their travels and she’d talk about my grandmother, whom I never really knew, and for a while I felt like a child again.

I didn’t get to see her much after that brief stay, my great-uncle Dan passed away a few years later, that was about the last time I saw her.
For my mom, it’s little like she’s lost her mother all over again, and that’s hard to take.
On Sunday she called home and my aunt B. held the phone up to Aunty Yaa so she could hear her breath, and I could tell she was comforted.
I’m sad that she’s gone, that I’ll never see her again, she was the only ‘grandmother’ I had.
It’s a kind of dull grief that surrounds and touches everything around me; I haven’t felt this kind of sorrow in a while.
If there’s life after death, then she’s in a better place, happy and reunited with her husband, her siblings, her mother, her friends… all together again. And that is comforting.

So there’ll be no talk of food today; instead I’ll leave you with this:
Sinead O’Connor singing ‘Lay Your Head Down’….

I don’t think we really had any Christmas traditions growing up.
There were those Christmases at my grandma’s when I was little; joyous and precious moments that has forever shaped what Christmas means to me. I do consider those tradition.

Last weekend when we were putting up the Christmas decorations, I realized that it’s become somewhat of a tradition – somewhere along the way I’d picked up some traditions of my own.
The tree usually goes up on the first weekend in December; we brought the boxes of decorations up from storage over the weekend.

The fun is in getting everyone to corporate, deciding what goes where, and the memories that comes with a few special ornaments.
And I, I’m always on hand with snacks; I made Italian wedding cookies, the unofficial cookie of Christmas – I’m not sure why they’re called wedding cookies.
I’m in charge of music too, I love Christmas songs, especially the hymns I used to sing when I was a child.
I had Enya’s ‘And Winter Came’ album playing and every time ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel’ came on, we sang along reminiscently.
It’s one of my very favourite Christmas songs
And as the wonderful smell of cookies filled our tiny space, with soothing music playing in the background as we hung ornaments on the old tree I knew that this was a tradition I hoped to keep.

I love Christmas! This is my favourite time of the year.
I used to send out Christmas cards every year, and then two years ago I stopped.
I miss sending out cards, my dad used to order cards from UNICEF and we’d stay up all night addressing them.
This year I’ve decided to bring the tradition back; I’m sending out a card to anyone who wants one.
I’ve seen a few people do this on their blogs, and thought it was a brilliant idea.
Just fill out the form below with your mailing address (I promise to guard it with my life!) and just sit back, wait a few days, check your mailbox… and viola… a Christmas card with a special note!
It’s okay if you don’t celebrate Christmas; just tell me what holiday you celebrate.

RIP Andy
Cancer is the worst!

My heart sank a little this morning when I saw a woman wearing a cardigan over her dress.
It was barely a month ago when summer begun around here, so I’m a little reluctant to accept its inevitable end.
I told someone recently of a certain sense of spontaneity that takes us over during the warmer season.
I feel we’re happier and perhaps kinder to each other…
I call it the happy season.

Like the day I wore this dress, I met an older couple while waiting in line at the coffee shop, they thought I looked like their daughter who’d moved away to Montreal.
I was intrigued because I rarely get that, the man showed me a cell phone picture of the daughter and all I saw was a girl with sad eyes who had a dress like mine on.
I looked at the parents and realized that they probably miss their child, so I joined them for coffee.
I listened to them talk about this stranger; a daughter who made their eyes sparkle, whose antics made them laugh, and it made me laugh.
And though I believed I was doing this for them, it was a little for me too…
And that’s the wonder of summer.

Outfit Details: Dress – Cheap Monday | Shirt – The Gap | Shoes – Fluevog | Bag – Massimo Dutti