a few glimpses of this christmas

Two days before Christmas, I sat in the family room, reading, all morning.  The house was quiet.  Periodically, someone would knock on the door: a neighbor, bearing jam or fudge or bread.  Neighbor would walk away with a bag of Chex-mix, and I would return to the couch, pull my legs under me, and open my book up again.

We woke up on Christmas morning to a mantle of quiet whiteness: snow, finally.

Ben and Wayne made each other laugh so many times.

I got to sleep under the softest down comforter, on top of the firmest futon mattress, in the dark basement, surrounded by boxes and boxes of stuff we are organizing as a Christmas gift for my mama.

My uncle Steve said something particularly hilarious, and I watched as my dad, overcome with funniness, sank to his hands and knees, then picked himself back up, eyes still squinted and mouth still open in a full-lunged bout of laughter.  One of my favorite things is watching my dad laugh, and there is no one that can get him going quite like his little brother Steve.