12/27/2025
I had to share my sister's post but go get yourself a cup of coffee and enjoy.
As I'm enjoying a quiet cup of coffee and watching the huge snowflakes falling and reflecting on the last couple of days, a fb story pops up and it made me think about....
Christmas Eve, late at night the door opens. No it's not Santa, it's Brian coming to get wrapping paper and ribbon, and then wee hours in the morning he's still getting stuff together for his little ones (who are not so little). Bruce comments "I remember those days".
Now here is the story that came across my fb and pretty much says it all for us grandparents aka the baby boomers....
"Christmas looks different
when you’ve lived a little…
Once, it lived in the noise.
In the paper flying through the room,
the toys that needed batteries,
the coffee brewed too early
because sleep never came.
Back then, we rushed this day.
We chased the magic,
afraid it might slip past us
if we slowed down.
We didn’t know
we were standing in the years
we would someday miss.
Now, Christmas comes quietly.
It enters the room softly
and sits beside us.
It lives in the glow of the tree
long after the house has settled.
In the way the lights feel warmer now.
In the silence that no longer feels empty—
just full.
After a lifetime of Christmases,
every ornament holds a memory.
Every recipe remembers a pair of hands.
Every song carries faces
we still love.
There are chairs we notice now.
Some filled.
Some remembered.
And somehow, both matter.
The years have taught us
how quickly children grow,
how suddenly parents become stories,
how one Christmas quietly becomes
the last one before everything changes.
But they’ve also taught us gratitude.
Because Christmas isn’t smaller now.
It’s deeper.
It’s rooted in love that lasted,
faith that carried us,
and moments that shaped us
even when we didn’t realize it.
So we don’t rush this day anymore.
We sit in it.
We hold it gently.
Because now we understand—
the magic was never in the noise.
It was in the love
that stayed."
