The journey may not always be smooth, the path may not always be clear, but in every moment there is a memory waiting to be made. What we make of these moments is up to us.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

It's THAT time of year...

The holidays means so many different things to everyone.

They mean busy days of nonstop running from dawn to dusk.

They mean dreading stepping on the scale in a week, but eating seconds (and thirds?) anyway.

They mean bumper to bumper traffic on roads that are already way too busy most of the year (ahem, HARBISON).

They mean getting up at 2am, standing in line for hours, and aching feet for days so that you can get those perfect few toys for a certain little man (at a price you can afford).

BUT, most of all they mean warmth. The warmth that comes only from being with family and friends. The warmth that you can feel when you go home (Mom and Dad's house is always called home in our family...even though we are all grown and have homes of our own- funny how that works) and smell the dinner that mom has worked on all day. It is snuggling up on the couch after the overload of Nonny's stuffing, turkey, and banana pudding. Sitting in the same spot that I sat in through my childhood to watch Saturday morning cartoons. Only now it's warmer. It's warmer because sitting on my lap, snuggling with me, making his own little memories after eating his first real Thanksgiving dinner is my little boy.

There is this surrealness looking back on Thanksgiving that was just two days ago. I am struck by how perfect the tiny little moments are that are almost overlooked. Like the one I just mentioned. Thanksgiving was winding down. Drew, Ian, and I were worn out (and stuffed) from two meals in under 4 hours. Mom and I had finished putting the food away and everyone was settling in to their post meal positions. Dad plopped into his recliner. Grandpa (and his trusty purring companion, Diane, my folks cat) settled into his chair with a book. Mom took a place at one end of the couch, Tim laid down with the dogs on the floor (Ben had to work and came later), Drew took the cetner space on the couch, I snuggled into my favorite nook on the end next to him. Ian snuggled with me with his milk cup. And we all watched Scoobie Doo. Yep. It was perfect. It wasn't the Hallmark moment with everyone gathered around a piano, singing Christmas Carols, and smiling with rosey cheeks. It was just our family being us. Being together. It was warm. It was perfect. And it IS what I am most thankful for.

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