And to all a good night.

He said he wasn't coming. Too much traveling in the last month and a half. First for the weekend after the new normal started. Then once more for the services. Coming back to Atlanta again for Christmas would be too much. Just too much.

"But you'll be alone," we said.

"I'm okay," he replied.

"But I just want you here for Christmas. Even if you'll be okay I still want you to be here with us." That's what I said to counter that. Poured it on thick and made it specific. Not just you need to be here. But we want you to be here. I want you to be here.

He wasn't budging.

"I'm tired. I'll be fine, I will."

And even though I didn't like it, that answer made sense. So instead of pushing further, I just turned it into this joke where I'd ask him every single day what time his Christmas flight was getting in. And he'd just laugh and say, "In February or March." So I just kept on with it, hoping eventually he'd be swayed. When I called him last night--at around seven thirty at night--I finally believed him. I was expecting his phone to go straight to voice mail and to see him sneaking up behind JoLai when Harry brought her back from the airport.

Nope. He answered the phone and told me matter-of-factly of the west coast things he was up to and would be up to this Christmas. Because that's where he was.

Allegedly.

The kids had hung out with Tounces all day and I'd just picked them up to bring them on home for Christmas eve. That's when I chatted with Dad on the phone and Harry, too, while heading up to Gwinnett county and back. Nothing about it was unusual. Except for the disappointment I felt about my dad actually going through with staying alone in California.

Yeah.

I walked into the door with the kids and the first thing I saw was a rolling carry on bag sitting at the door. I knew JoLai wasn't due for another two hours, so that was a bit confusing. I threw my keys onto the table and headed toward the kitchen. That's when I turned around and saw him. Sitting right on the corner of the couch smiling.

Gasp.

The BHE was in cahoots with him and had picked him up from the airport. They were even together during both of those earlier phonecalls, those scoundrels.

Man. I broke down and cried the minute I saw my daddy. I knelt right in front of him and laid my head on his lap and just wept and wept. I was so glad that he was here and that we would all be in one place together. Glad because this would be the first Christmas since the start of the new normal, but equally as glad just because it was Christmas period. 

No, we're not an extremely festive family. Surprisingly, there aren't any rules on who gets gifts for whom or how and when we do things. Our traditions involve things like playing Bananagrams and doing the gigantic holiday crossword puzzle in the newspaper. But now, more than ever, I am clinging to all of that. Embracing the most every day moments with those I love the most.

So yeah, my dad flew in and surprised us all. Even JoLai, who left him a lengthy to-do list in California. And we convened at Will's house and broke bread and spent time together. We all navigated the new normal the best we could, and it was better than expected since none of that had to be done over the phone.

Dad and JoLai slept over at our place on Christmas eve. The boys woke up to Santa's bounty and also the arms of us and their auntie and grandpa. Yep.

And look at this:

Aaah, this photo. I tell you it's everything I want for my sons and it embodies all of the reasons why I'm so glad that Poopdeck decided to come to town after all.

I can't stop looking at this image. It's so .  . . so . . . Norman Rockwell. . .don't you think? Look at how content they are. How safe and innocent. And look at their grandfather sitting there working his engineer's mind to assemble one of the many "assembly required" gifts found underneath all of that lumpy wrapping paper.

It looks so mundane, so serene, doesn't it? Zachary singing to himself while listening to music on his new headphones and hand-me-down iPod nano. Serious Isaiah with his grandpa's cerebral mind, studying his remote controlled toy and trying to determine if everything was in order before pulling the trigger.

Every bit of this made me happy. Every little tiny bit of it. Knowing the huge advantage in life that these seemingly forgettable moments afford children. Especially man-children.

But that's a whole separate blog post in itself.

Yeah, so Christmas morning was good. As always, the kids were thrilled and fortunately very grateful. We've committed ourselves to not going overboard so, just like last year, everything was unwrapped in less than twenty minutes.

So that was cool. And speaking of wrapping. . .

I spent some quality time with my little sister, JoLai. We sat up and wrapped gifts into the wee hours of the morning. And crappy wrapping became the goal, which made us both laugh out loud several times. The one above was the absolute best of the lot. Deanna would have stamped a big "REJECT" on those willy-nilly corners for sure. But at least it wasn't as fat and lumpy as the rest.

JoLai asked if Grandpa Isaiah would notice that Santa and Mommy used the same wrapping paper. I wagged my naive index finger because I had a solid answer for that concern.

"Clearly we leave all the gifts out that we bought and Santa's elves totally wrap everything. It's such a good deal and it saves mommies and daddies so much time."

To which she responded, "Clearly Isaiah will notice and ask you about it."

Hmmph. Challenge on.

Well. I should have listened to JoLai. Or at least had my act together like my sister-in-law Fran and had separate Santa and Mommy paper. Whoops. He never flat out asked me, but I definitely saw Isaiah's wheels turning this morning. I know he's only seven, but my guess is that the real Santa might soon be kicking rocks right along with mall Santa.

Yep. I think the gig might almost be up for the jolly dude. I've already been hit with several logistical questions in the last two years about the traveling arrangements. This year he even said, "Atlanta's kids alone would fill his entire sleigh with toys and stuff. It just seems. . . " And he just sort of stopped there.

Eek.

The least I could've done was separate the wrapping paper situation in a watered down attempt to keep hope alive. I'll keep y'all posted on all of that.

What else? Oh yeah. Jo and I went for a lovely walk-slash-run after breakfast. A cool three miles in honor of Deanna's lucky number--three. We laughed and talked and just enjoyed one another. JoLai is all about exercise, so we broke a sweat, too.

Something about that felt right. The air, the walking, the talking, the sweating. The all of it. JoLai even gave me this cool t-shirt which made that walk feel even right-er.

Yeah.

Harry got the swanky headphones he wanted. I got my camera, too. And those boys got plenty of cool things including the thing they wanted the most: A Wii console.

Ooo Wii.


So that's mostly it. And for those who've thought of us, prayed for us or simply wondered how it went today. . . first. . let me say thanks for that. Because there's lots to think of on Christmas and fitting us into all of it isn't something you have to do. I also want you to know -- all of you who are struggling with your own pain and loss over the holidays -- I am thinking of you, too. Of Nancy and Crystal and Joy and Davina and Bridget and Rachael and so, so, many more people. Because the heart has room for that, remember?

So Christmas with the new normal. How was it?  Mostly it was wonderful. We were together in solidarity, touching and agreeing on all of the joy, pain, sunshine and rain (literally) that came with this day. So mostly, it was good and rich and full of love.

It was.

There were a few sunshowers but mostly lots of hugs and meaningful exchanges between family members of all ages.

And all of it was good. Very, very good.


Thanks for asking, okay?

***
Merry Christmas to all. And to all a good night.