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1528476_10202258398838086_581389364_nSpending Christmas Eve Eve with my nephews was thoroughly worth the cold they could not help but share. That said, it made for a strange Christmas. A holiday of slowness. Of television marathons with a grand total of hours that would have been simply shameful under other circumstances. Of sharing tissue boxes and drinking tea and resting in piles on the couch. And then… Christmas was over.

Church came around and post-chaos/sickness cleaning began. We continued to find time to rest on the couch, but soon we did so alone–without my New York Sister or Sister Kate or her husband. There was still fun to be had. In cleaning out closets, we could not help but try on old ball gowns, reliving memories of each occasion. We snatched moments alone to dream and reset. We even eked enough life from ourselves to drag ourselves to the movie theater, catching the Walter Mitty remake. And now as the real world officially begins again, I am grateful for a little more oxygen in my lungs, for good, good memories, and for the new church family that has made me feel so at home.

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