The rain is coming down here in the southland. A December rain floods the yard. Ant hills are under water, chickens are in the coop, and we safely watch from the covered porch.
Rain in December. Not freezing rain or sleet or snow. A warm rain. A t-shirt, puddle jumping kind of rain.
It is not what I am use to. But, so is the way this year. While two little ones scurrying under feet, ecstatic about the days happenings, surely make for a noisy and always busy day, somehow holidays minus a big gathering is just lonely.
We did make up for it with a weekend rich in tradition and outdoors and food. Laughter and cuddling and reminiscing.
Tales of old were passed on. Sparkling eyes listened contentedly. Searching our foggy brains for christmas morning surprises we remembered a drawing table, a bike, a guitar… but most of all we remembered our families. We remembered the joys we shared with them.
These days are good. Oh so good, I promise you. But the joy of a shared meal, the light of a flickering candle, the sound of tearing paper, these things are all done best when you can gather up all those you hold near and dear and plop them into the same room.
Soon we will pack up our (ahem… newly sewed) backpacks, a picnic suitable for a long journey, and take the trip up north. But I am tired of these trips. I am ready for some permanence. We are a family on the go. We have learned so much of the details of friendship and the importance of gentle behaviors. And for this I am glad. But now I am ready for the lessons that are brought when you spread your roots out. Not so far and wide, but right in one little place.
“Look mama, the tree is all bundled up! It looks like it is ready to go outside!” The sounds of christmas morning.
I will not forget this Christmas morning, one which was glorious in its solitude. One which we focused on the four of us only. But I will most certainly cherish future years a little more now that I see how good it is to be with all the ones you love.