Each year when we unpack the ornaments, there are glimpses of Christmases past when the girls were little. It gets harder and harder to sharpen those memories, layered so deeply, and I will always miss those babies in my lap, thrilled, exhausted, recharging for the next round.

Christmas week goes by so fast- the whirl of it all is a little dizzying, too wonderful and vast to view at once. Like the big bear hugs my dad used to give us, the holiday seems to wrap itself tighter and tighter around us until we're ready to dissolve with joy. As the girls get older, it's no longer about Santa and his toys, but the gifts are even more important in the sweetest way. Each has become a master Santa trying to divine the best secret gift for her sister, boyfriend or parent. The thoughtfulness and love that goes into their choices for each other - and for us- is just amazing, so creative and adorable. I think being part of that dear and generous affection is the best gift - only outdone by the gift of time. The hanging out, just being together, jammed into the too-small couch, squeezed around the tiny kitchen table or hovering near the magic stove. It's crowded and cozy in here, elbow-to-elbow, so merry and bright. Nothing more to wish for. It's all right here. This. is. it.