The Aftermath

It is Monday, the first weekday after Christmas, and the guests are gone, the presents open, with remnants of wrapping here and there, and the snow blows off the trees, visible with a peak of sunshine. It is the first work day after Christmas for Randy, and a week of break for the boys and I - don't worry, there is work to be done around the house as well.

What a beautiful holiday this Christmas was. The boys loved every rip of paper. Their oohs and aaahhhs could not be beat this year - they are at that age where the magic is real, the love is pouring and infectious. It was a gorgeous day - gorgeous.

Now, as I schedule this week with play dates and work. As I start to clean up and get back into a routine, the realization of the want, need, and desire for a bit of Christmas to carry forward and fill the days to come with that togetherness feeling, that love, that way that we all say "Merry Christmas" to the person behind the meat counter or the person we pass on the street. It is the warmth within the cool temperatures that, yearly, I crave.

As I close this year and open the next there will be fewer desires for less weight, or more organization (though both would be nice), but instead, I am looking for a greeting, a way to see all people that says, "Merry Christmas" all year round. One that is intentional with eye contact and smiles. One that surpasses the idiocy of my little frustrations and stresses. One that meets people and warms them. A way to say, "hey, I see you and you matter because isn't this a beautiful time of the year?" at any time during the year.

Indeed, I am in the aftermath of the holiday - the holding week between what is and what will be - and I hope to carry this residual love through out the year, because it was a gorgeous, gorgeous day and I'd love to experience a gorgeous, gorgeous year.