Just enough Christmas for now

When did we grow up I wonder? Christmas eve my brother and I would sneak downstairs with sleeping bags late at night so that we could wake up by the tree as soon as the sun came up. This year no one in my house slid out of bed before 10:30. We all just ate breakfast, sipped our coffee half asleep. No one even mentioned gifts just “Who’s going to go get Grandma?” I volunteered for the task. My mom needs a break from constantly worrying and I’m pretty used to working with patients who reach this point even if it is my Grandmother. Even now she doesn’t worry about much “where are we going?” she asks, “To spend Christmas with us. Everyone is waiting for the guest of honor.” She thinks it over a second as I help her to the passenger seat. “Well that should be nice.” In no time the faithful crowd collects around the dinner table. Twelve different conversations and my mom’s somehow in all of them, armed with a porcelain bowl “more gravy Uncle Nate?” My brother and I slip away to spike our eggnog in the room where he grew up, our laughter nearly tipping over his old highschool tennis trophy. My bedroom’s just an office now where Dad finishes his Sci-fi novels on nights when my mother snores. Another Christmas passes like a summer storm that barely wakes you. Again I find myself sneaking downstairs with a sleeping bag in case Grandma wakes up confused I can tell her that everyone is where they need to be. Not a bad Christmas to be honest.