My Christmas cards went out yesterday. While I was lying in bed last night, however, I realized there were a few people I wanted to add to the card list. Mostly, I’ve been going off the list created by my late wife and adding slowly when I added. But now I’m managing the list, and I’m more comfortable in my role as the sole arbiter of the list. So, adding new people feels pretty natural, and I’ll do it.

I guess Christmas is becoming more me than us. For instance, I decorated as I liked this year rather than trying to recreate the last Christmas my wife handled the decorations. I suppose it’s the natural progression of things. And it’s good to remember that while she was managing the decorations, she was never static. She was always adding and subtracting and having fun with the job. And that’s what I’m doing, and that feels a good way to serve her memory.

On a more tension filled note, however, I also realized last night that the buying of Christmas presents was way off the mark. But you know what? It is what it is, and I’m refusing to stress out about it. I worked most of the month of November on decorating the house and the yard, and I got sick right after Thanksgiving. Plus, I’m still missing my wife and there are slow, slow days. But we’ll get there, and everyone will be happy because we have each other, along with really good memories of the mother and wife no longer with us. Plus, there are children in the house, and they deserve smiles and bright laughter. If that’s the least I can do for them, it will still probably count for a lot.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale