For 

Me

Christmas

Is

In

The

...Eve...

...the before...

...the hasn't happened yet...

...the unopened packages...

...the late arrivals at the door safe and sound...

...the cookies on the plate...

...the stockings hung by the chimney...

...the only lights...the ones on the tree...

...the quiet...

...the stillness before the din...

...and the memories of Christmas past...

...loved ones missed...

...grown ups when they were kids...

...the padding feet of little footie pajamas up the stairs and off to bed...

...the quiet before the storm...

I have been here before...by this tree...in this hour...

...long after all are tucked in, snoring soundly, heads on pillows, lost in dreams, weary of being wakeful...

...many nights before...just the lights...the tree...the stars and I...

For here, in this moment and space,

it doesn't really matter what is under the tree.

There are no disappointments, wrong sizes

or terribly tasteless tacky ties.

It is not a question of what is here...but who. 

Christmas Eve is at the top of my Christmas Wish List. 

The list of the names of those I love most in the world. 

The list of the names who love me most. 

Here...in the dark...in the stillness...I count their noses...pat their heads...hold them close...

With each tick of the clock, I call a name...Mother, Father, Brother, Aunt and Uncle, Grandma and Grandpa, Husband and Wife, Son and Daughter...

...and in the silence...

...I see...

Christmas Eve when I was a child. 

Christmas Eve when my own children were small. 

Christmas Eve when my children are grown. 

The portrait changes over time. 

New faces added and loved ones lost. 

On Christmas Eve, I time travel and gather them all into my arms for a loving embrace. I smell my Father's cologne and feel the scrape of his whiskered chin. I fall into my Mother's arms and hear her whisper in my ear. I look up into my brother's eyes crinkled in a smile. My children are cuddled up at my side sleepy eyed and yawning. My husband looks over their heads at me and I know that I am his and he is mine and that we are very lucky to have lived this life together.

Christmas Eve, for me, is like that tender time...

...between Mother...and...Child...

...just before...

The time when only you and your baby are having a conversation. 

When you sit quietly, feel the quickening and look up, sure that everyone around you felt it 

too...when they did not. 

So you lower your head in the stillness and speak...

"Mother To Child"

In the wee hours of the morning, only you and I lie awake. Here in the dark I listen to your heart. I feel your toes kick me from the inside out. I don't use my voice, nor whisper in the silence, because somehow I know that you can hear me, what I think, I imagine and dream, here in the stillness...what I send, you receive. Here I hold you. Here I give you life. These moments are ours alone. This soft sweet connection defies the ages. Here love is born. Here trust is given. Promises are made. 

Someday, after we have met face to face, we will reach back for this connection, and in the silence or in a touch, only we will understand the power of this moment, Mother to Child.

...I kiss each cheek...

...tuck the covers in tight...

...smile to myself and turn out the light...

A Mother's Love Letter...a gift from my heart to yours.

Merry Christmas Eve. 

May you find Joy under your tree.