ShannonI refused to steep in self-pity. No, I didn’t have my beautifully decorated apartment with a tall, twinkling tree, and I didn’t have Jonah—probably never would have him again.
But on Christmas morning, I did have Olivia, filled with homemade pancakes and unwrapping her presents on the sofa of my long-term-stay hotel room. “Let It Snow” played on radio, boosting me cheer. I found a potted evergreen at the grocery store and strung it with ribbon for me hotel living room.
I also had a kitchenette where I cut out sugar cookies to bake in the so-far unreliable oven. The first batch burned in a matter of minutes, but with the temperature adjusted, I hoped for improvement with batch number two.
“Thank you for the sweater, Mommy.” Olivia came in and hugged my waist.
“You’re welcome, swe
