Sean McDevitt
Christmas Morning
I wake to a silent house. My coffee warms cold hands as I sit gazing at the pale winter light filtering in through frosted windows. It’s Christmas morning. I hope you’re having a great day so far (or had a great day if you’re reading this after the fact).
There aren’t wide-eyed children exploding with anticipation in this house anymore, which is a touch sad. There are still stockings hung by the fireplace, a twinkling tree (actually several), and the feeling of “the calm before the storm.” However, there is a wonderful feeling of family.
There aren’t a lot of Christmas traditions in this family. We don’t open everything all at once and luxuriate in the carnage of torn wrapping, ribbons, and tape. We do go through our stockings first and see what Santa brought and then look to open presents. It’s a joyous occasion and we do what we want.
This year, new faces have arrived on Christmas morning. Boyfriends and friends have made this a new kind of Christmas. It’s new but not unexpected. Time flows forward. Not too far into the future, I’ll be the grandpa, like my father before me.
In the kitchen, monkey bread and rolls are coming out for breakfast. It’s not really a Christmas morning tradition, but I like that it’s just for us. It feels right.
After the presents are piled up and clothes tried on… after the kids have headed out to go to their other family Christmases… after watching a movie or two and maybe taking a nap… I will give thanks—for the warmth and light, for family together again, and for warm coffee on a silent morning.
Be kind, be happy, and be at peace this Christmas.
