A Christmas for the ages

Our Christmas celebration at home

If you're like me, perhaps you're filled with a little bit of the post-Christmas blues today. It's hard not to be. I so love listening to songs of the season, watching favorite holiday movies, the wonder and awe that sometimes overtake me as I watch the twinkling Christmas lights. And I know all too well that three more months of winter await us (three months if we're lucky).

I'm lucky this year because while another Christmas is on the books, our dear family friend's visit continues through the end of next week. Carlos was our beloved exchange student from Spain. He stayed with us for the first time more than 21 years ago, and the connection with our family was instant. He came back to see us subsequent summers, but it had been 17 years since I'd seen him.

Carlos's return has been the best gift I could imagine. I'm delighted to report that he hasn't changed a bit. His deadpan humor remains intact. He amazes me with his memories of every major and minor detail of his past visits. He and I and my parents and brothers have shared laughter and joy reliving those halcyon summer days of long ago.

Me and Carlos, 17 years later

My dear friend's voice sounds miraculously, joyously just as it always did. Hearing it again and seeing his familiar face fills me with happiness. Carlos displays the uncanny ability to connect with my boys and nephews just as he did with my brothers when they were young.

It has been a special Christmas indeed. When we all gathered for my family's celebration on the day after Christmas, it was every bit as raucous as you'd expect for a gathering of 11 adults, seven kids and two dogs.

At the center of all the festivities is my mom. The end of the light-hearted movie Arthur Christmas always manages to make me cry, because it reminds me so much of my mom. Arthur has been named the successor to Santa because he has always worked to make everyone happy. My mom could be Santa. She works so unbelievably hard to make Christmas a special time for everyone. I think everyone in my family would agree that Mom overextends herself, but it's all for the love of her family, and protest though we may, we know she wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks, Mom.

Our celebration was a day of kids' joy and anticipation, a day of kids whining and bickering, a day of dogs barking and stealing food off people's plates (Tim and Emily - I love your dogs - it was all part of the glorious mix). I'll admit that at certain moments, I began to feel the stress and strain.

The chaos reached its apex at dinner time. Mostly thanks to seven hungry boys, the dining room was cacophonous as everyone waited for my mom and me to serve dinner. The meal was rushed, the kids had many requests and demands. These affairs never turn out as you envision - unhurried, peaceful, contemplative.

After the long-anticipated and quickly passing day was finished, I realized that in all its imperfection, I would not change a thing. These are the days we'll look back on as my kids' halcyon days - a time of togetherness, forging bonds with cousins, presents, food, fun.

I'll remember my boys, 11, 8 and 5, all still young enough to revel in the magic of Christmas. This is what I'll see in my mind's eye: Ben is so excited but trying to act the mature oldest cousin; Paul cites his stuffed animals as his favorite Christmas gifts; Gus is bursting with anticipation and trying so hard to wait to open the gifts. Someday when Christmases are much quieter, I know I'll look back on the Christmas of 2013 with longing. These are the days.