Today -- Christmas Eve -- is the day in the holiday season that I most look forward to.
On Christmas Eve, my family celebrates at my mother's house. Around 4 or 5 p.m., her tiny house will fill with my brothers and sister and in-laws and lots and lots of kids. You'll be able to smell the ham before you even open the door.
When you do open the door, all the delicious smells of Christmas dinner will hit you -- smells I love -- even if it's food (ham, sausage, etc.), I don't eat.
It will be hot. And crowded. And loud. Kids will be yelling. Adults will be laughing. And every square inch of the house will be decorated -- from the toilet seat to the windowsills (I'm not even kidding).
After we fill our bellies, we'll fill our souls at my mom's church where the whole family takes up two pews at the 7 p.m. Christmas service. Some of my sibs have wanted to eliminate the church part -- they say it makes the evening last too long.
I, the amiable middle child who goes along with almost anything, pitched a bloody fit. No church? No way. We go to church on Christmas Eve and when it comes to Christmas traditions -- that is the hill I will die on.
So, we all traipse off to church and we return to mom's to open gifts and eat and drink some more. Mom brings out the dried beef cheese ball and fancy crackers. I usually sneak some even though I profess never to eat beef -- this is the only time of year it finds it's way into my body. I cannot resist that silly cheese ball rife with chives. I try to eat around the beef, but it's nearly impossible.
While presents are being opened, we start the phone call to Grandma Bray -- passing the phone from family member to family member so she we can all wish her a Merry Christmas.There won't be a phone call this year. Grandma died earlier this year after 100 happy, mostly-healthy years. We were blessed to have her as long as we did.
When all is said and done...and we have all had our fill of candy and cookies and cheese ball and whiny kids and hot kitchens and family, we pack up and head for home.
Santa is coming, afterall.
For me, I feel like he already did. There is no present you can put under a tree that I could love more than Christmas Eve at my mom's house.
Even if my Republican sister starts in with me.
Merry Christmas everyone.