The holiday season is upon us.

How is that even possible? I’m still emotionally unpacking Pumpkin Spice, and you want me to start decking the halls?

For me, Christmas doesn’t start until December 1st. Not a second before. Here’s the thing, though—I do love the holidays. I just want November to be November, with it’s gratitude, thankfulness, and elastic waistbands, before we turn on the Christmas Cheer.

But for me, that is where the trouble starts—it’s not just the gift-giving. I’m fully here for the lights, the parties, the eggnog, and those fancy Honeybell oranges that only show up once a year. Every year, I make the lists, create a Pinterest board of recipes, shop for a festive dress, and play Tetris with my calendar trying to “be there” and “go here” and “make time.” I love all of it. Except, well… I kind of don’t. I get totally overwhelmed by the endless “must-dos” of the season.

I want Christmas to be this perfect, magical experience, but it’s not. Christmas is messy. Christmas is complicated. And I don’t think it’s just me. We’re fed this idea that it’s supposed to be shiny and bright, but for so many of us, it’s more like a mirage—an illusion of joy that never fully arrives. Behind the pretty lights and sparkly wrapping, there’s a lot of pretending. We pretend we’re happy. We pretend we have it all together. We give more than we have, we stretch ourselves thinner than we should, and we roll into the New Year feeling depleted.

Here’s the truth: No matter how much we want to fix everything, we can’t. Christmas is still going to be hard for some of us. We’re still going to feel loss. We’re still going to have wishes that don’t come true. But what if we could lean into that, instead of away from it? What if we could let the imperfection connect us, instead of letting it break us?

So this year, I’ll be here—with my burnt cookies, my scraggly tree, and probably wearing last year’s holiday dress with last year’s holiday stain. And instead of obsessing over the perfect gift, I’ll give what really matters: time and real connection. I’ll ask the hard, important questions: How are you? What do you need? Are you OK? And when I need a dose of cheer, I’ll flip through these pages, finding inspiration in the kaleidoscopic beauty of  Michelle Donato’s home or the brilliant smiles of the West Orange High School’s Unified Cheer team. And then maybe —just maybe—I’ll let go of trying to make everything perfect and focus on simply showing up, messy flaws and all. Because that’s what this season really needs—us, as we are.

Carol had this uncanny ability to see you—the real you—and then wrap you up in a love so pure, it made you believe you were good, worthy, and whole. She was the kind of friend you don’t come across often—a compassionate soul with an infectious warmth and a saucy sense of humor that could make even the heaviest days feel lighter. She was grace under pressure, love in action, and extraordinary in every way.

Last month, after a fast and furious 7-week battle with Stage 4 brain cancer, Carol took her last breath. And for a moment, it felt like mine went with her.

And yet… some people bring such a great light to the world that even after they’re gone, their light continues to shine.

Carol’s death has stirred a new desire in my heart—a desire for service, much like hers. I don’t have the full picture yet, but I know words will be part of it because that’s where I find meaning. Her passing has made me realize that I want to be a light to others. To offer shelter in kindness and love when your knees buckle and the floor drops beneath you. When you’re teetering at the edge of what your heart can bear. When the road ahead is a blur, and the hurt feels like it might never heal. Carol showed me that even in the darkest times, there’s space for light to shine. And that’s what I want my legacy to be…carving hope into the darkness.

It’s so very Carol to keep breathing life into new dreams, even from the other side of the grave.

That’s what extraordinary does. Extraordinary love. Extraordinary grief. Extraordinary courage. Extraordinary dreams. They change your life in unfathomable ways.

Heather Anne Lee
Editor