Ocoee
Oil on canvas, 12x12, commission
My dad and stepmother came east from Arizona for Christmas this year, as they always do. They usually come before the holiday, which lets them avoid some of the traveling chaos and also allows them to be back home in Arizona, with their friends, for Christmas itself.
We got together at my brother's house, and it was a different kind of celebration.
It was a brunch, it was alcohol-free, and it involved a minimum number of presents.
So often, the family has just gone overboard with presents. This year, we chose names, and gave one or two gifts, and it felt right.
Christmas will never be the same since my mother died. But it feels like it is starting to become something else, something new, something different, and for that, I am grateful.
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