the best of times; the worst of times

“Yes,” said Queen Lucy. “In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world.” - C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle



Christmas was hard this year. It was my first Christmas away from my dad, and the fifth without my mom's sweet, gracious presence. I was at the mercy of the traditions of others. I didn't get to read the Christmas story from Luke 2 first thing in the morning. I didn't get to each my aunt's good, southern food or fall asleep on my grandpa's couch. I didn't get to bundle up and go see a movie with my dad.

It was hard. At one point, I went in the back room and just cried.

But there were good things, too. Even though my sister, dad, and I had already exchanged presents, my sister went out and bought me a new outfit so I'd have something to open Christmas morning. I got to cuddle up with a hot cup of wassail and watch The Time of the Doctor with my nephews. (Matt Smith, you will be missed.) I got so many sweet texts from so many sweet friends.

And the main reason the day ended up being okay? It's so obvious and simple, but so life-changing and important. The birth of Christ. When focusing on traditions and warm, fuzzy feelings, the holiday can take one of two routes: happiness or bitterness. Those who are in good situations greet the day with a smile. Those who are suffering do their best to get through the hardest day of the year. Though I fall in to that last category this year, I'm thankful the day is worth more than its traditions. It is a day in celebration of the most life-changing, history-altering event to ever happen (in tandem with what happens on Easter). For the first time in my life, I think, the day was totally about Christ's birth for me. It couldn't be about anything else.

I'm thankful for what He did. And I'm thankful for my family.
Here's to the upcoming new year.

xo,
Katy

cozy christmas playlist

 

To make up for my recent absence (I had a paper to finish...then I got a monster strain of the stomach flu. We won't go in to that) here's a cozy Christmas playlist.  

I hope you all are having a splendid Christmas season. Mine has been quite different so far this year, but that doesn't mean it hasn't been good.

xo,
Katy

white winter hymnal

I couldn't sleep last night. I knew it was supposed to flurry, so I crept to my dorm room window, to find the biggest flakes of snow I've ever seen floating outside my window. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, thankful I would wake up (very early, I might add) to a world covered in white. I wasn't disappointed when I dashed to my car, sans jacket. The sun was just starting to come up. The world was clean, and new, and cold. (Quite different from the muddy, miserable, freezing world we experienced a few days prior.)

Most of it had melted by the time I got off work. Snow is a rare thing in the South, so when it happens, you really appreciate and respect it (and perhaps curse the other Nashville drivers who can't handle a measly inch of snow).

Lately my life has looked a lot like this:




It's been the most stressful semester of my college career. Thankfully, 22 pages, four days, and five finals from now, I'll be done.

xo,
Katy 

new in store

I've recently added quite a bit of art to my Society 6 store.  Support your local starving artist. :)

xo,
Katy

time has not touched it

 

 Though time may wear down wood and metal, I refuse to let it change my memories. They can be immortalized in ink and paper, in bytes of data. 

When I think of "home" my mind wanders down wooded paths to my family's tiny cabin, nestled in the Ozark Mountains. It would take about a twenty-minute drive in any direction to reach any sort of civilization. The parcel of land was given to my family by a very close friend. My dad designed and built the cabin himself (with some help from my grandpa, mom, and siblings, of course).

We would spend countless hours at the cabin. In the summer, we'd take a picnic, sit on the back porch, and sketch. In the fall, we'd spend every Thanksgiving here. We'd go down the night before, eat soup, play trivial pursuit, and read old copies of National Geographic. The next day, our extended family would pile in. There was no parade-watching or football. Only family and the woods around us. 

I remember dad hunting here. I remember hiking to the far ridge with my brother. I remember popping over to the closest cabin to visit with old friends. I remember my mother decorating with fresh-cut evergreen, filling the entire cabin with the fresh scent of winter.

I remember.

My sister and I went down last Wednesday, the five-year anniversary of my mother's death. Her presence lingers at the cabin. An old and faded evergreen arrangement, turned brown by the passage of time; an old coffee grinder placed carefully on the shelf; dried wax from candles long gone on the mantle. Each was a remnant of her. Each a reminder that this had once been her habitat. 

We stood in the kitchen and cried. As much as you try to convince yourself that you've moved on, grief finds those quiet moments and makes itself at home. 

I'm thankful for the time I spent with my family this last week. We all have a shared grief that binds us together, perhaps more than the common blood in our veins.

xo,

Katy

the words always come

I don't write poetry much, not really. My emotions are better expressed through prose or pictures. But there are some events in my life that I feel must be immortalized in some kind of verse. It's been five years. Today, I finally found the words for that exact moment.

And finally, in one quiet shudder,
The November wind has blown out
The one kind flame that sought to heal so many ills. 

A sterile death is an expected one.
Each minute a dagger to the hope of life. 

xo,
Katy

change is good

 


I crave routine and change equally. I don't really understand quite how this plays itself out in my life, but I know it to be true. (Am I really making a new hair cut/color a lesson on philosophy? Guess so.) Anyway, I feel like a new woman with my Christmas hair.

xo,
Katy