There’s a sense of magic in the air everywhere you go at Christmas, but like Dorothy said in The Wizard of Oz, there’s no place like home.
This Christmas I’m going to value my home more than ever before, because I nearly lost my Mam this summer. I feel so grateful to be surrounded by my family in our warm (I’m afraid to see the heating bill) home that’s been turned into Santa’s grotto.
For me, our four bedroom house in Drimnagh is the most perfect place to be this festive season.
The warm, white fairy lights on the tree twinkle as the sun goes down.
The window ledge in the kitchen is now home to the dainty Christmas ornaments Mam has collected over the years.
The three old, tattered Christmas stockings we’ve had since our youth hang from the mantelpiece.
The Christmas tree stands tall in the front room with our sentimental Hospice decorations placed on the branches.
The pile of presents under the tree is slowly starting to grow as December 25th approaches.
The stress of college and work and bills and illness is slowly drifting away. Soon we’ll be having festive movie nights and scuffles over who ate the chocolate from the advent calendar a day early. We’ll be celebrating Dad’s birthday and pottering around shopping centres looking for gifts.