I’m sure you’re sick of Christmas posts. But….one very pesky eldest sister is pushing me and prodding me to write something, and, well, if you haven’t noticed- IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME!
There is no way to describe the way it feels when all the siblings come home for Christmas. The air tingles of excitement and happiness, the atmosphere one of cozy companionship as we form a ring around the stove, each trying to get the warmest spot possible without burning a hole in our pants or recoiling away with a stinging burn. In one room someone could be shedding tears, while ten feet away several people will be laughing over a merry jest. It’s a happy time, Christmas time.
Because I am the youngest I’ve had to watch as one after one, siblings depart to college, or to travel the country, or whatever else they decide to pursue. And so I’m left behind with a few other under-aged dreamers who will also one day leave me. A lonely little child in a three-story farmhouse. Yes, I do have a bit of a melancholic personality, have you noticed? No, it’s really not that bad. But you can now understand how wonderful it is to have us all back together again for awhile.
Except I usually pretend that I’m pretty darn cool and that “hey, yeah, I can do whatever I want”. The following photo is a result of this stupid strategy of mine.
Oof. This is extremely embarrassing. Please remember that I have gotten past this stage and no longer look like this.
And of course we always end up with a new game to obsess over each year. Everyone takes their turn in attempt to be on top and proclaim themselves the “master”. The masters of the game are always James and Raph. Always. I never have a chance at those games. It comes with being the youngest in my opinion.
Yet another Christmas game. They’re quite entertaining.
Mary already covered the dresses. The dresses are oh so interesting. You have no idea how much of an ordeal they are. And you have no idea how much I made fun of Kate for that red dress. There’s also the three or four years in a row when Mary wore the same red velvet dress to Christmas Eve Mass. Mom finally banned her from it after it got a bit shabby and short. Mary was none too happy.
I so look forward to seeing all of my sisters (and brothers!!) together again. The laughter, the rude comments, the deep conversations, and the tears shall be ever so interesting. And I’ll bet you a million bucks Kate will be the one supplying those tears. She’s always the one who cries. About everything.
Christmas cheer to all!
If you missed Kate’s perspective on coming home for Christmas see here:
Coming Home for Christmas