Saturday, June 20, 2009

Not a creature was stirring (Dec. 25, 2005)

There’s always a moment—though I usually have to be up really late or really early to find it—when everything is calm. The presents are wrapped; the garland is strung; the vacuum has been run. There’s nothing more that can be done to prepare, at least until it’s time to put the turkey in the oven.

And in that moment, the only light in the room is coming from the Christmas tree; the only sound is a soft carol on the radio (currently, Perry Como and “Do You Hear What I Hear?”), and the only worry is that maybe I should be using this time to sleep. But I always decide that sleep can wait, because at that moment I know that all the hustle and bustle was worth it, and everything’s going to be great. Really, life doesn’t get much better than this.