I'm home now; it was a treacherous, long, epic journey from Portland, one that I accepted gratefully in order to be home. Many people were not so lucky and are stranded in the wrong town for Christmas.
My sister has shot up another few inches since I saw her this summer; she is nearly as tall as me now, and she's only eleven. My brother still tells long rambling stories that lose me in the middle: stories about comic books, things friends said in school, funny youtube videos he watched. They decided to get my mom a Nintendo DS for Christmas; I had to spot them about $50. Soon they will be teenagers, and then adults. It's fascinating to watch their developing self-hood, to see their inner sacred hearts.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve; we will watch a movie and clean the house in anticipation of visiting family. We will make cookies and go to church. I can't believe it's upon us -- the last few weeks have been so challenging that I'd nearly put the holiday out of my mind completely.
The new year also looms large upon us, and I am at work cultivating next year's resolution, more of a general M.O. about how I want to live my life than a specific goal to reach.
It's been a year since I was here last, the longest I've been away from Maryland in my life. I continue to be awed at the concept of home. It's as though no time has passed. When I stuck my hand in the silverware drawer I still pulled out my favorite butter knife without looking.