Just over a year ago, my husband and I decided to separate, but since it was the holidays, we agreed we would wait to tell our kids about this life change. We both felt like we were wearing a mask to get through it all; I felt comfort and despair in continuing with some of our beloved family traditions. I knew it was going to be the last year we shared the same roof and did certain things together.
I became very good at taking the days minute by minute and not looking too far ahead. I dove into some of my favorite recipes like homemade applesauce, fudge pie, and roasted butternut squash soup. The kitchen became my church. I was able to be in the moment and tell myself I could worry about what the holidays would look like after our split, later.
And now it’s later.
