scribblechic

Christmas Eve I will not sleep, eagerly anticipating the first sleepy footsteps of my children tumbling from their beds into the hallway. For now, I want to postpone the unraveling of ribbon and wrapping paper. Let the surprises linger a little longer. I’m not ready. Not yet. I want to rest suspended in anticipation and make-believe.

I know each gift by shape. I worked without lists trying to select items that would find a home in the hands of the right person. Now, I can only wait and wonder if the gift will fit their wishes. If the recipient will feel that sense of joy that comes from feeling appreciated and understood. The silent sound on rounded lips that fills their eyes with glee.

This year, I want to pack away our ornaments, but leave the spirit of the season scattered like pine needles in the corners of our home. To wake each day in celebration of small blessings and with faith in possibility. I want love and kindness to echo like remnants of carols and candlelight to reflect the magic of twinkling lights.  This year, I am not ready to undo the tidings of the season.

Dear Santa, stop here last.

Tagged: Christmas, Family, Gratitude, Joy, Season