I’ve been particularly reflective for the past few days; not sure why. We’ve had another great Christmas. The family has gathered, and scattered, and will gather again. The party train keeps rolling on this time of year.

The girls had a big Christmas morning; too big, some would say. But that’s what Christmases are for. I even got in on the action—both sides—as the recipient of 5 bottles of the nearest thing I have to a favorite wine along with a new tennis racket that’s sure to make me a U.S. Open contender in 2013.

I was also a big giver this year. The operative term being “big.”  Among other things in Kelly’s stash this Christmas morn was a $3.50 gallon jar of whole dill pickles. (That’s big! You ever try to eat a gallon of dill pickles?) They are sort of a hillbilly version of mistletoe, only they make her pucker up even quicker! Tractor Supply is a great place for last minute stocking stuffers and goofy do-dads you can’t find anywhere else.

In the midst of all that we have and do, more and more I’m becoming aware of the temporal nature of things. As I trod through the cold this morning feeding the animals, Christmas music was playing in the barn….I’ll be home for Christmas…… and for some reason I began to think about a young mother I know who lost her husband tragically a couple of years ago just as the holidays were beginning. I wondered what Christmas mornings were like in her household.

I’m so blessed. I’ve got so much. I enjoy it all so richly. And yet, this isn’t it. There’s more and better to come that will someday make all this seem comparatively worthless. That’ll be it!  Someday, I really will be home for Christmas. Oh, that will be glory!

Until then, I’ll keep sucking the marrow out of this wonderful experience and these beautiful people I been graced to share it with. I’ll keep seasoning trips to the ladies specialty shops with stops at Tractor Supply because it just wouldn’t be Christmas without something goofy under the tree. Someday, when I am gone, I’m betting they won’t remember new iPhones or tennis rackets or jewelry. But maybe the gallon jar of dill pickles will become a family legend. That’s kinda what Christmas gifts are all about.