Christmas Eve is my late wife's birthday. This year, instead of crying, I'll celebrate the good times we had.

After years of grief, I will celebrate my late wife Lori's birthday on Christmas Eve. Lori's resilience and joyful spirit shaped our memories, even during her illness and in her final days. Remembering Lori's adventurous life helps me embrace joy and cherish the holidays once again. It's been almost five years since my wife Lori passed. But, as the cool weather sets in and fall's kaleidoscope of colors paints the landscape as far as the eye can see, my mind begins to wander. From the time the last leaf turns brown and falls to the ground to the time the first flakes of snow land, I know the clock is ticking down to December 24 - Lori's birthday. She lived with a brain tumor The first year was the roughest. My most recent memory of her birthday was her 51st, only a few weeks after the doctors said there was nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable. But Lori ignored that. For 23 years, she lived with a malignant brain tumor and was told this is it. And then, it wasn't. On what would be her last birthday, I made her a three-layer cake filled with strawberries and covered in a chocolate ganache, prepared pancakes (which was her favorite food group), and gave her chocolate from her favorite shop, a cubic zirconium engagement ring because her actual engagement ring no longer fit on her fingers, and a needlepoint kit that she could use from her wheelchair. And when she went to sleep, I cried. This was the memory stuck in my head. This was the memory that haunted me. And every year since she died, I hope that on the anniversary of her birthday, the memory of any one of the other 33 birthdays I celebrated with Lori would somehow show their face, and bring a smile instead of tears. For three years I waited. I read her diaries from time to time And then, last year, it finally happened. On what would have been her 55th birthday, I was reading Lori's diaries, which I did from time to time, pretending I could still talk with her. I came across a passage she wrote about her 35th birthday. I smiled. Lori had just recovered from yet another brain surgery and radiation and told her doctors that, come the first snowstorm, she would be skiing. It had been 10 years since we got married, and as a birthday present, I thought we would invite friends and family to the summit of our favorite ski resort so we could renew our wedding vows. And the memories started rushing in. I remember that day vividly It was December 24, 2005, at 6 a.m., and there were already a couple of inches of snow on the ground. The forecast was calling for 12 more. The house smelled like last night's fireplace. I looked at Lori sleeping next to me. She was wearing her snowman pajama bottoms and a top she affectionately called...

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