I woke up on Christmas morning before the alarm I had forgotten to set.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I thought I was back in Raleigh.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the blue shutters.<\/p>\n
The little courtyard.<\/p>\n
The unfamiliar ceiling above my bed.<\/p>\n
I remembered where I was.<\/p>\n
Portugal.<\/p>\n
I sat up and reached for my phone.<\/p>\n
There were messages from Joanna, Derek, and the grandchildren.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
I had missed them more than I expected.<\/p>\n
I had also slept better than I had in years.<\/p>\n
That was something I didn't know how to explain.<\/p>\n
I got dressed and made coffee.<\/p>\n
The house was quiet.<\/p>\n
I looked at the little wreath hanging on my door.<\/p>\n
In\u00eas had left it there before Christmas.<\/p>\n
It was simple.<\/p>\n
A few green branches tied together with a red ribbon.<\/p>\n
I thought about the decorations at Derek's house.<\/p>\n
The gold glasses.<\/p>\n
The beautiful table.<\/p>\n
The food I would have spent hours preparing.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether Cassandra had managed to cook the turkey.<\/p>\n
Then I stopped myself.<\/p>\n
I didn't need to know.<\/p>\n
I had come to Portugal because I wanted to spend Christmas differently.<\/p>\n
I needed to let myself do that.<\/p>\n
I ate breakfast beside the kitchen window.<\/p>\n
The bread was fresh.<\/p>\n
The coffee was strong.<\/p>\n
Outside, the street was beginning to fill with people.<\/p>\n
I could hear footsteps on the cobblestones.<\/p>\n
Someone was calling to a neighbor.<\/p>\n
A door opened.<\/p>\n
Then closed.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
It was an ordinary morning.<\/p>\n
But it belonged to me.<\/p>\n
A little later, Joanna video-called.<\/p>\n
She was wearing pajamas and holding a large mug of coffee.<\/p>\n
Her hair was pulled back.<\/p>\n
She looked tired.<\/p>\n
But she was smiling.<\/p>\n
"Merry Christmas, Mom!"<\/p>\n
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."<\/p>\n
She asked to see the house.<\/p>\n
I picked up the phone and walked through the rooms.<\/p>\n
I showed her the kitchen.<\/p>\n
The little bedroom.<\/p>\n
The courtyard.<\/p>\n
The wreath on the door.<\/p>\n
She laughed when I showed her the tiny table where I had been painting.<\/p>\n
"Are you actually painting every day?"<\/p>\n
"Not every day."<\/p>\n
"Mom."<\/p>\n
"All right. Almost every day."<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
I told her about the bakery.<\/p>\n
I told her about the little shops.<\/p>\n
I told her about the watercolor that had looked like a blue towel in a bowl of soup.<\/p>\n
She laughed so hard that I had to explain the picture again.<\/p>\n
Then she asked what I was doing for dinner.<\/p>\n
"I reserved a table at a little restaurant."<\/p>\n
"No turkey?"<\/p>\n
"Not unless somebody else cooks it."<\/p>\n
She laughed.<\/p>\n
I laughed too.<\/p>\n
It felt good.<\/p>\n
I hadn't realized how much I needed that.<\/p>\n
We talked for a while.<\/p>\n
She asked whether I was lonely.<\/p>\n
I thought about the question.<\/p>\n
I missed my family.<\/p>\n
I missed the children.<\/p>\n
I missed the familiar sound of my own house.<\/p>\n
But I didn't feel lonely in the way I had expected.<\/p>\n
"I miss everyone," I told her. "But I'm enjoying being here."<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
"Good."<\/p>\n
After we hung up, I got ready to go out.<\/p>\n
I walked through the town.<\/p>\n
The streets were decorated for Christmas.<\/p>\n
There were lights above the narrow roads.<\/p>\n
People were carrying bags.<\/p>\n
Some were stopping to talk.<\/p>\n
I passed a shop selling little ceramic houses.<\/p>\n
I stopped to look at them.<\/p>\n
I thought about bringing one home for Joanna.<\/p>\n
Then I thought about the grandchildren.<\/p>\n
I chose a few small gifts.<\/p>\n
Nothing expensive.<\/p>\n
Just things that reminded me of the place.<\/p>\n
I put them in a bag and continued walking.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, I sat in the courtyard.<\/p>\n
I had brought Leonard's old gray sweater.<\/p>\n
I wore it when the air became cold.<\/p>\n
I thought about how much he would have enjoyed the little house.<\/p>\n
He had always liked quiet places.<\/p>\n
He would have sat beside me and asked what I was painting.<\/p>\n
Then he would have pretended to understand the answer.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
I wished he could have been there.<\/p>\n
But I was glad I had come.<\/p>\n
Later, I went to the restaurant.<\/p>\n
I had made the reservation the day before.<\/p>\n
I was nervous about eating alone.<\/p>\n
I had never spent Christmas dinner in a restaurant by myself.<\/p>\n
The table was small.<\/p>\n
There was a candle beside the window.<\/p>\n
I ordered a simple meal.<\/p>\n
Nobody stared at me.<\/p>\n
Nobody asked why I wasn't with my family.<\/p>\n
Nobody expected me to serve anyone.<\/p>\n
I ate slowly.<\/p>\n
I looked out at the street.<\/p>\n
I thought about the years I had spent cooking Christmas dinner.<\/p>\n
I had enjoyed many of those meals.<\/p>\n
I had enjoyed seeing my children open presents.<\/p>\n
I had enjoyed watching the grandchildren run around the house.<\/p>\n
But I had also spent so many hours in the kitchen that I had rarely sat down long enough to enjoy the day.<\/p>\n
This time, I had.<\/p>\n
I returned to the house after dinner.<\/p>\n
The streets were quiet.<\/p>\n
I could hear church bells in the distance.<\/p>\n
I sat in the courtyard for a few minutes.<\/p>\n
Then I went inside and made tea.<\/p>\n
I checked my phone.<\/p>\n
There was a message from Cassandra.<\/p>\n
"We're doing a smaller dinner tomorrow. I ordered the turkey from a local place. It's not the same as yours."<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
I wasn't sure whether she was complaining or trying to tell me something kind.<\/p>\n
Then another message appeared.<\/p>\n
"I probably shouldn't have said what I said at Thanksgiving. I was trying to be funny."<\/p>\n
I read it again.<\/p>\n
I thought about Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
The dining room.<\/p>\n
The turkey.<\/p>\n
The guests.<\/p>\n
Cassandra's laughter.<\/p>\n
Derek looking down at his plate.<\/p>\n
I remembered how I had felt.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to pretend it hadn't mattered.<\/p>\n
But I also didn't want to spend the rest of my life holding on to that moment.<\/p>\n
I typed a reply.<\/p>\n
"I appreciate you reaching out. What you said hurt because cooking is something I do for people I love, not all that I am."<\/p>\n
I sent it.<\/p>\n
Then I put the phone down.<\/p>\n
I didn't expect her to understand everything immediately.<\/p>\n
I didn't expect one message to change our relationship.<\/p>\n
I simply wanted her to know why the joke had hurt.<\/p>\n
A few minutes later, my phone lit up again.<\/p>\n
"I understand."<\/p>\n
I looked at the words.<\/p>\n
They were simple.<\/p>\n
I hoped she meant them.<\/p>\n
I didn't reply immediately.<\/p>\n
I sat beside the window and listened to the bells.<\/p>\n
I thought about Derek.<\/p>\n
I thought about Joanna.<\/p>\n
I thought about the grandchildren.<\/p>\n
I missed them.<\/p>\n
But missing them didn't mean I had made the wrong choice.<\/p>\n
For years, I had believed that a good Christmas meant making sure everyone else was happy.<\/p>\n
That night, I began to understand that I could love my family and still enjoy a Christmas that belonged to me.<\/p>\n
I turned off the kitchen light.<\/p>\n
I went upstairs.<\/p>\n
I was tired.<\/p>\n
But I was peaceful.<\/p>\n
And that was enough.<\/p>\n
Source: lessoninlife.net<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n I woke up on Christmas morning before the alarm I had forgotten to set. For a moment, I thought I was back in Raleigh. Then I saw the blue shutters. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10835,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10840","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-sharestory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10840","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10840"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10840\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10853,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10840\/revisions\/10853"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10835"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10840"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10840"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10840"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nClick here to continue reading: PART 6: I Had Gone to Portugal to Find a Little Peace, but My Son’s Next Phone Call Made Me Realize How Much We Still Needed to Say<\/a><\/strong><\/h2>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"