This year has been a gift in so many ways, from turning a wild creative dream into the Oliver the Owl series to sharing my parents’ legacy with you. But as the holidays approach, my focus has shifted to something even more precious—creating meaningful memories with my mom, who has always been the heart of our family’s Christmas magic. This season, every day feels like a new chapter in a bittersweet story, filled with love, gratitude, and the quiet strength of family.

Let me set the scene: holiday meals at my house were like something out of a movie—except with way more food and way less table space. We didn’t just host big family gatherings, we hosted epic ones. Picture this: my mom in full culinary command, whipping up trays of 'pigs in a blanket' (the real kind, with cabbage, not hot dogs), while I tried—and failed—not to spoil my appetite with peanut brittle and glass candy. Add in a few jokes from my older siblings, a card game with Grandma (who always won), and a Christmas tree that never left the room (yep, year-round), and you’ve got yourself a holiday.