Today John convinced my parents to hunt down a real tree before I was even awake. I'm actually sort of speechless at the tingling tingles this holiday winter-ish season is giving (we have been artificial tree people all my life). We've been waiting for the snow, but this day; the possibility of new traditions and profundity of change and age, the mornings he and Glasgow have woken me this weekend. I'm stung by it. My dad bought me one of those tiny trees you keep in a pot and plant in the ground. We've nearly drank all our coffee today. Yesterday when John tried to convince me that we could buy one of those super expensive espresso machines from Williams Sonoma. He almost had me. I'm wearing a cable knit sweater. These are the days.
I'm set on owning a tree farm some day. Maybe as some sort of retirement gig. The ocean and mountain summits make me feel the same infinite buzz. Thoughts for a later date.
It's really breath-taking to pick your head up and look around one holiday and find everyone in your family as older and changing. Breaking-taking like, eventually beautiful, but at first more like when you got hit by someone on the sledding hill and your breath literally gets knocked out of you. I see its value, and I really see its beauty when I can breathe again. We're all learning about each other still, and how to express our love. But it's a worth-while challenge that I think I might not able to be lazy about.