Mom poked her head into the kitchen. I was making room in the fridge for the turkey and rice soup we had just enjoyed (Thanksgiving leftovers put to good use). “Are you good, or do you want to drop it and help us?”
“I’m good,” I said. I enjoy cleaning, and the kitchen was quiet.
They were decorating our newly-scored Christmas tree. I was cleaning up after dinner in the half hour I had left before dance class. It felt like I should be in the living room, even though it wasn’t really a family occasion–Spencer is back to college in another state, and Becca was at church. The darkness outside that evening made the lights inside seem cozy. I gave it up –I squeezed the soup pot into the fridge and headed for the living room, navigating the un-swept floor. What was I doing by myself in the kitchen anyway?
I got down on my knees and started helping attach wire hooks to our glass balls. I back and forth ran from the bin of decorations to the Christmas tree, and there and back again. The glitter stuck to my jeans and my hands.
“I love this color scheme,” I said, looking over our fir, which was turning into a pillar of red and blue and silver.
“Good.” Mom smiled. “That makes me happy.”
She had turned on this gorgeous, gentle, instrumental music and the whole thing felt magical. If there’s one thing that gives me nostalgia, it’s Christmas music.
I love Christmas, and I’m so excited for this new Christmas season. Happy December, readers!