The kids have headed off to bed, the fire is crackling in the fireplace. Dishes are washed up, leftovers tucked into the fridge for snacking on tomorrow.
I’m exhausted, but it’s a good exhausted. The one where you know you’ve run 100 miles an hour all day long, but every bit of it’s been joyful.
Sadly, for the second year in a row, my dad wasn’t able to be here. The saddest part of all is the reason he couldn’t come. A tragic auto accident has left one person dead, two people hospitalized, and my father is helping pull other family members together from across the country. I’m so proud and touched that he’s there for these people in their time of need, but sad that he couldn’t be here for Christmas with his grandchildren. Please, please, remember to buckle your seatbelts – it could have made all the difference in the world to that family.
Illness kept other familiar faces from our holiday celebration as well, so my dinner for up to 25 only had to serve 14. (LOTS of leftovers! Did I say “tucked” earlier? I meant wedged. Maybe jammed. It’s kind of puzzle-like.) All the traditional goodies- turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, some green bean casserole. Add to that a pork roast, some chicken & noodles, rolls, and a pile of desserts destined to destroy even the most diligent weight watcher, and it doesn’t get any better.
A few quiet hours with my husband tonight, after a great day of teamwork. In the kitchen, with the gifts, with clean up, just a great partnership today. Just a good, good day.
I love good, good days.