We had a great Christmas here, a wonderful Christmas - even if it ended in tears most bitter, with an excited little heart most broken. It was the kind of Christmas when the driveway fills up with cars, driven by loved ones, who did not let falling snow and ice upon the highway prevent them from coming.
It was the kind of Christmas where many gifts were exchanged, where all present engaged in a feast in which every item - from the turkey to the squash cooked with berries and nuts and the grand finale pumpkin chiffon pie - seemed created to perfection.
It was a wonderful Christmas, a great Christmas, for we were all here. Not a child born into this family or descended from it was absent, and those adult children of others who have merged with our children in intimacy were all here as well.
There is even one more car that you do not see - a little tiny one parked behind the big, black, truck in the row to the right.
I took a flood of pictures, too many to deal with in a short time, and I had intended to make two big posts today - one on all the usual proceedings and the other upon a gift meant for all to enjoy, a gift made possible by the generous and beloved spirit of a niece/cousin/aunt from India, now living in London, soon to be married in Pune.
But I was too tired this morning. I got up early, but then fell back asleep. Now I have no time to make either of these posts.
I have no time because today is the fourth birthday of this little boy, Kalib, who loves Thomas the Train; this little boy who yesterday was brought to the heights of joy and excitement by that love, but also to bitter grief and pain. In just over half-an-hour, we must leave for Anchorage to help him celebrate his birthday - although he may not want to see me, his understanding of certain things being limited, both by his age and desire.
Regular readers are familiar with the Thomas the Train that he plays with here. It is not a gift from this Christmas. Yet, many Thomas items did appear under the tree this year.
So the question I now face is, do I put my Christmas posts up tomorrow, two days after Christmas, combined with a birthday post from today?
Does anybody want to read about Christmas come December 27?
I don't know.
I will give it some thought.
There is a story to be told - not a huge story, not an earth shaking story; not a story that will make a difference to the course of world events - but a story just the same, and I kind of want to tell it.