Maybe I do want to remember this Christmas; the way that we crammed every beloved family member into 48 hours through 2 hours of travel time, 1 photo session, Mamaw’s ham sauce, church + friends, breakfast with my cousins, and hosting our own—our first of many–in our new home.
Maybe I do want to remember the details and the conversations surrounding our weary world, rejoicing. And heavens, maybe I do want to remember the things so easily forgotten—like our plan to open a kitchen serving all of Mamaw’s recipes (to include but not limited to ham sauce, ice cream pie, gonko cookies and so much more that you can’t even begin to imagine).
I’m heeding these words, “It’s okay, you can let it out. I know this has got to be so hard for you…” ..but I still haven’t
I want visions and mental footages surrounding the joy of ripped wrapping paper and trying out new gifts after our breakfast at Laura and Brad’s.
p.s. I’m hoping this becomes a new tradition: mom and I on the couch surrounded by excitement and so much love it literally hurts. In my mental notes, the phones are non-existent.
I have this irrational, yet completely realistic fear that Sasha is on the verge of dying… she’ll be 10 in February and aren’t big dogs know for their non-longevity? I worry about her and what life will be like when we have a little one… So in the meantime, she totally, unashamedly milks being Daddy’s girl.
I want to hear Kellan’s still somewhat baby laugh before he completely outgrows it and snuggle Hudson so hard he can’t take it. Tavy found out about Santa Clause this year; like what the WHAAA!! They’re growing so fast we can hardly take it.
Mental note: Behold nephew’s innocence way more than we have been.
My Christmas joy grows every year as I spend the special day with my not-so-new-anymore family. Sister Kendra and I have an unequivocal love for JoJo and all things farmhouse so this. p.s. did you notice I have some new glasses?
I love my mother-in-law. Like love her fiercely well. We have an unspoken, on-going quarrel over who loves Trey more which is a constant tie, though if she’s reading this, for the record, I’m clearly winning.
Also, no one opens gifts better than Audrey. It’s a “who’s going to make her cry first..” or more type of game.
I look at her and think she has got to be one of the most beautiful women I know. So grateful– doesn’t matter what or how. She’s just grateful.
And Papa B. I want to record his laugh. It’s jolly. Like if jolly had a sound, it’d be Papa’s laugh. Also- he’s dad-ing me really well in my time of grief; something that I’ll never fully be able to put into words, also something that I’m eternally thankful for.
We gave them “boarding passes” for Christmas…. aka tickets to our favorite place: South Dakota. These were their reactions.
Beholding: unexpected and unknown surprises.
I want to soak in the aromas of beef tenderloin in the oven and roasted carrots on the stove and my husband helping me in the kitchen…
He helps me a. lot. And he’s meticulous about following recipes (something I definitely don’t understand). That said, we have no idea how his banana pudding recipe turned out “banana fudge-cement.” I’ll take it and credit the hardest Christmas laughs to said d-EEE-sert.. Apparently, I say dessert the wrong way. Alternative facts. #fakenews.
Last Christmas was such a whirlwind after my dad’s surgery that I have trouble remembering the smaller things. His presence especially more meaningful now than even then—but the small things like how he was so excited to give Reena her new little toys, and his voice when he would wish me a “Merry Christmas” on Christmas morning. My mom had this weird band of bears from QVC (literally a band of bears that would move and play the same twelve Christmas songs over and over like a broken record) but oh how Dad LOVED to turn them on while we open presents and read his letter. I remember hating that in my twenties but this year wanting to search frantically to find it…I didn’t though so I just ebayed it as I’m writing to you and found it in .12355 seconds. FYI, I will be purchasing said item immediately following this post. P.S. I actually want to order 5 of them because… “just in case.”
How much has changed in this one year from his life-lengthening surgery to his rightful joining into the heavenly host of angels…
I told myself that as much as I wanted this Christmas, that I often didn’t. In efforts to remember the tiny details of his last Christmas, I’ve instead forcefully remembered the larger details of his life that celebrated our Savior daily instead of annually.
There is just so much goodness in the tiny details…and so much greatness in the larger parts of our everyday lives. Family and all this loud love–it’s everywhere.
Today, Jackson asked me, “Are you all EVER going to have kids?” Emphasis on the “ever.”
I casually ignored him as I pleaded with the loud love in my heart telling me to be a little more patient; our time is coming.
There’s just so.much.more to rejoice about. Because maybe, just maybe it will be our last just the three of us, Trey. Me. Sasha. (Well, and obviously, Mom.) Trey and I have decided to start the adoption process– we told our families on Thanksgiving and now it’s time to tell everyone else too!
We’ve got the house. We’ve got my Christmas gift, the “sport” van (which is actually code for minivan for two childless adults in their thirties. It’s a sport van. We’re trending it.). We’ve got the love… but more on that in the coming weeks and months. The deafening love is waiting.
Right now, I just want to savor this. More than I did last year, because of how much I didn’t last year.