The eggnog is gone – and there will be no more for another year.
The wrapping paper will be put back in the closet – after it is re-stocked by post-Christmas paper sales.
The wreath will come down from the wall – replaced by a more “seasonally appropriate” picture.
The stockings need to be gathered from where they had landed after being emptied – and stored carefully for early detection next year.
My red and green dresses will be tucked to the back of the closet – to reveal the more practical clothing that can address cold weather and casual encounters.
The nutcrackers will be packed away into their containers – there is no replacement for the space they had occupied.
Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus will be gathered into their boxes for gently packed away – with hopes that the Christmas promise will not be packed away with them.
My oldest boy, Ben, has made it to the airport and awaits his flight to Thunder Bay – his departure leaves us with heavy hearts and hopeful anticipation of a speedy spring return.
The season has ended. It happens every year. There is no escape – not for any one of us. Life is like that. Yet, there is a certain comfort in knowing that there is change in the wind. We are stepping from one season and INTO another. Life is like that. Christmas is indeed a season of family gatherings, of celebration, and of good food and friends. It brings glowing warmth into our hearts and causes us to pause to reflect on the changes we have encountered over the past year. Remarkable. There have been births, anniversaries, and deaths. Many challenges and many celebrations. Many memories. Back in September when I received the diagnosis of cancer, I could not have imagined to have been such an active participant in Christmas, yet, I was. What a blessing. What a gift. I participated in the Christmas season.
Kevin is off to work – the holiday is over and routine returns.
No matter how much I want this season to linger… the Christmas Tree must come down.
(Now – where is that silly groundhog?)