We are whole with our holes!

Know you are loved. Were loved. Will be loved. That's what I want you to know. That's why I write. To give people hope ... the world doesn't want you to be happy, joyous or downright content. You have to do this for yourself.

Determine to do it.

Especially at this time of the year, holidays, "holy" days if you will, galore. But most of us are "holy," in that we have holes. Bruises where folks have stepped on us, scars where we have survived and holes where the wind whistles through because we miss the ones, and the things, that made us whole.

So, with this in mind, this holiday season do one thing just for you. Purpose to read a book (my favorite) that lifts you up. Resolve to do something for someone else because you can. And above all, understand that you function just fine with holes, like a wheel, or a doughnut. After all, we are whole with our holes.

This scene is long gone. But I still love it and look for it whenever I'm on the road under this sky. Will I see it again? Likely not as I saw it then. My desire is to see a better version of this evening sky from one day in December in South Carolina. One can hope.

I offer this abbreviated morsel of an essay I wrote about my Grandma Lee, titled "A Certified Fifties Lady." "Every person shall give as able, according to the blessing which has been given to them; out of our abundance we give. Grandma is with me every Christmas, even though she hasn’t been here for more than thirty-five years. When people die they leave holes. Holes in your heart, holes in how you spend your day, holes in your soul. Just holes ... Some holes are small and seemingly heal in a matter of a few years. Some holes begin healing but are ripped open afresh from some memory or conversation, a smell or sound. Other holes are so huge that time can never create enough scar tissue to bring the jaggedy edges together.

To date, what gift that you’ve been given do you treasure the most? What have you given that others treasure?" Grandma left behind, in 1983 after she was gone to receive her just rewards, quilts to keep us warm, food to feed us (because she had canned goods stored in a smoke house), and a legacy of love shown thrown cooking and quilting and sewing and gardening and giving. This Christmas I give to you her peanut brittle recipe.

Lee’s Peanut Brittle

Combine one cup light Karo syrup, one cup sugar, two cups peanuts.

Cook on medium to high. (You may have to adjust the heat as you go, she suggests in her recipe.)

Stir fast until brown.

Add one teaspoon baking soda and pour quickly onto greased pan. Let it set up.

Break apart and give away ... This you will enjoy, the making, the brittle and the giving!