The Peaceful Aftermath

It was exciting around here last night.  Lots of people, lots of food.  (Lots of work beforehand.)  I love to provide the opportunity for a big Christmas Dinner for my friends.  I remember so well the Christmas Eves at my great-grandmother's, where the bubble lights were almost more of an attraction to us younger children than the presents, and the Christmas Day dinners at my grandmother's -- all the aunts and uncles and cousins, everyone dressed to the nines.  When we had children, I wanted them to have similar memories, and I soon discovered that I have a group of friends who feel the same way. 

We start the celebration with Christmas Eve candlelight services and partying at the home of another friend, who does all her work right up to Christmas Eve and then spends Christmas Day itself in pajamas.  At our house, we clean like demons after we open our presents Christmas morning, and then we provide turkey and stuffing and sandwich stuff, wine and other drinks, and everyone else provides an amazing array of casseroles, salads, and desserts.  One of my friends sings Oh, Holy Night as our grace, sometimes joined by the younger ladies and sometimes not, and we eat and talk and play silly games for hours.  Some years we sing carols; this year we deferred to the college students and left them to their own devices in the living room.  (The children's table has now become the poker table.) 

At some point in the evening, we cram all of the children onto the front stairs for a picture.  The adults do the same, but we have a bit more trouble creaking and fitting onto the stairs.  I just looked at the stairs pictures -- there are seven children, not including my own, in the 1991 picture, who are in last night's picture.  Four of them are in college now; one is out.  There are two children who were here last night and make their first appearance in a picture from 1988, before we had migrated to the stairs! 

Tonight, all is quiet. The candles have burned down and thestreets and sidewalks are white again. My husband has taken our children to see his family a few hours away, and I have been reading and writing and enjoying the snowfall with the dog.  There are still piles of silver to sort and put away, and folding chairs stacked all over the house, but those things can wait a day.  Tonight is a night to quietly savor the season, and the friendships that help it along.