In mid-December my mother went into the hospital with heartburn. What followed was an 11 hour open heart hour surgery to fix an aortic aneurism that had dissected - two strokes and various other complications. She survived it all, and that is probably the most real Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten. But we know little yet if she’ll ever recover enough enjoy life as she had before.

She’d beat similar odds seventeen years ago when an aneurism in her right frontal lobe burst at the funeral for her sister. That brain surgery and the strokes from the trauma left her having to relearn how to re-circuit her short term memory. Then three years ago she underwent a quintuple bypass facing it all very bravely and soldiering on as she does. I only hope and pray this time she’ll make it back, to enjoy those things in which she took pleasure so we may celebrate how special that was next Christmas.

The gift which she shared most of all was her love and creativity. As a children’s book illustrator for many years and before that a jewelry designer, fine art painter, fashion sketch artist and a crafty mom who couldn’t keep herself from sewing exotic fashions, making all the Christmas decorations or painting toilet seats, it’s not surprising she passed on that passion on. It is to her I owe my dedication and creativity.

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