For some, Christmas means schlepping to family or friends and spending hours picking out the perfect gift. To others it might be about religious traditions, or more about time in pajamas with television. For me, Christmas vacation means time with ski family.
But Christmas Eve is different.
Even after He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named ruined the magic of Santa, Christmas Eve held an untouchable magic.
For at least the last 15 years or so, my family has spent Christmas Eve at the Moss’ house. This year, this meant that I didn’t have to bother with the dreadful 1/4 mile commute to my parent’s house. Instead, I had to travel a block over to one of the most merry and festive houses in town.
As I have come to appreciate and love, there was a great spread-including my favorite food- and the company was superb. They have a beautiful tree; Jasper literally spent an hour ogling it. After visiting with old friends, we made the not-so-long drive home to enjoy some sushi and to set up for what promises to be a terrific day tomorrow. All of the events of the night were perfect. But that’s not why I’m smiling.
Behind all of these wonderful things is magic.
The magic of promises kept, and that of those yet to be made.
As the New Year approaches, and the nights grow shorter, I can’t wait to see all that is to come. This year has been one of loss and joy, and I gather strength for those who will need it next year. But I also want to give thanks for the hugs and laughter that I get to share with my boys each and every day- because that’s real magic.