Those are words that I miss today. 

Knocking on the door, waiting with anticipation for the sounds of those footsteps almost running to open it, and then seeing Mom’s face and eyes sparkle as she growled/squealed/demanded, “Get in here!” followed by her attempt to “squeeze our guts out,” as she and Dad always described it.  It was always such a wonderful feeling to “come home” on Christmas Day. I miss her decorations, her spread of food covering the table adorned with the signature tablecloth, using the china for Christmas dinner, her insistence that the family get together and making sure that everyone was welcome at their table, relish plates, and although I never ate them, her cinnamon rings that she had to make every year, her peanut brittle that was sometimes a little burnt but always made with love, and even though we never had a fireplace, I miss her dryer lint egg carton gifts she gave to everyone who could use them.

I am grateful for memories of this day.

I am grateful that our family is a game-playing family, and I am grateful for memories of SkipBo, Oh No 99, Compatability, the Name Game, Rook, Dominoes, Curses, Golf, Phase 10, and Bananagrams.

I am grateful for Pegues gold coins that Dad always gave to Angela and I. 

I am grateful for being able to imagine my grandchildren’s excitement on Christmas morning now that they are a little older.

I am grateful for reenactments of the Christmas story by the girls when they were little.

i am grateful for Christmas sweaters with cardinals on them.

i am grateful for the small handful of Christmas cards that we have received this year, and for the joy it gives me inside to see “Sam and Rhonda Scofield” on the envelopes. Mom would have written about it in her 2013 Christmas family poem, I’m sure.

I am grateful to have spent an hour and a half with 17 three year olds last night while their parents heard the message of Christmas. 

I am grateful to have spent six hours at church last night volunteering during the services and seeing so many people spend their Christmas Eve in worship.

I am grateful that my brother and his family are with my Dad today.

I am grateful for a quiet day to grieve and reminisce.

Merry Christmas, Mom, Dad, Karissa, Katrina, and the rest of my family. I miss you and wish I could squeeze your guts out today.