Christmas without Evelyn just plain isn’t Christmas. But we made a valliant effort which yielded surprisingly pleasant results.
Instead of having Christmas day at the house in Roxbury as we have every year, we had it at the shore condo. It was a way to honor her memory without torturing ourselves by having it where we always have, where ALL of the memories were made. Rolling into Wildwood Crest on Christmas morning, there was a record high temperature and super dense fog. I was not prepared to see the sight you see in the first photo below. The last time I had seen this sight, it was on the back of her service prayer card, and before that, through her eyes in her own photos of it. Usually, you see it looking more like this.
So to have the words emerge hauntingly before me out of the fog, to be able to pull over right there, get out of the car and get this shot without seeing any other signs of life, it was quite the chilling experience.
The girls and I went down to the beach after opening gifts and took photos, coming together as a pair or a trio at times and then wandering off and getting lost in the fog by ourselves at times. It was a really quiet, contemplative way to do Christmas. It really felt as right as it could considering. The third shot down of the two girls just floored me, the way it developed with that bubble of protective light around them, it felt poetic and symbolic. And seeing as it wasn’t really the season to be at the beach (despite the surprisingly warm temperatures), it was desolate and empty in Wildwood. We had it all to ourselves and it was a much needed quiet atmosphere.