The mistletoe candles are lit and I can close my eyes and see the lights twinkling on the tree, the hand-made ornaments that sparkle with red and green glitter with an old fashioned red ribbon. The Christmas tree with levels from the height of us kids scattered with our own ornaments. Mine being the middle and my brother and sister weighing down the bottom of the tree, like a sagging ladies boobs, the tree hangs from the bottom filled with the proud hangings from the kids the other parts bare.
Its the happiest I see my mother. The reason the family gets together. The reason my dad lingers in the kitchen showing us how to cook a turkey. The smells linger in the air and you hear the laughter carry throughout the home. The music in the background as we warm our pillows by the fire, running to the room and laying down quickly feeling the almost too hot cotton on your face, the smell of the laundry detergent whispering in your nose.
The cartoons on the tv, 25 days of Christmas, Rudolph reminding you how wonderful being a kid is. The way children look up to see the decorations, their eyes gleam a little brighter. The mittens that are worn from throwing snowballs and making disfigured snowmen. The advent calendar that grandma and grandpa would buy that had little chocolates behind them.
The way family seems to gather in the living room, where the tree, the fire, and warm christmas colored blankets invite you in. The laughter that comes from watching family 'peter' movies. We are all happy, embracing the season. Christmas is the happiest part of the year. Especially for me.
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