I wish I knew which combination of words to use. You see, I want to be able to express what Christmas means to me, but there aren't enough words. Or I don't know the right words. Or the right combination of words. It's frustrating.
Christmas is a long drive to my mum's house in Ohio. A drive that lets me decompress from the stress of the semester and mentally plan out my short visit.
Christmas is eating too much chex mix, and too many cookies, and just not caring.
Christmas is hugging my dad, who is now shorter than me because he is stooped over with age and spine deterioration.
Christmas is following my mum's orders that occasionally we need a "rest period" - which means, lets take a nap. I love "rest periods."
Christmas is going to Christmas Eve service with my mum, and holding her hand through the closing prayer because I'm so grateful she is standing there with me
Christmas is a rag-tag gathering of relatives on Christmas Day, some who drive me nuts and some who I'm so excited to see again!
Christmas is the evening quiet, when mum and I are tucked in with cozy blankets, watching a CSI marathon.
Christmas is remembering that all this celebration is because a miracle occurred. The date may not be exact. Some of the minor details may have been empathized to make the miracle more memorable. But I believe in the miracle that is the birth of Jesus.
I wish I had the right words. . .