Against the subtle glow of the Christmas tree, in the aftermath of a chaotic Christmas morning, the quiet of a small family afternoon sets it.
The kids are upstairs, supposedly taking a nap, and we are sitting in near silence save for the light conversation we are having. The subtle bubble of the water in the tea kettle is comforting.
I love these quiet Christmases. I love the simplicity of it.
I often dream of white Christmases, getting dressed up for a formal dinner one of the nights of holiday break, walking down wintery streets after a bit too much fun. But these quiet days just cannot be beat. Because we’re here. I’m here with my people, and that’s everything.