Christmas afternoon, really.
And I'm sitting in my living room, in my corner of the couch, looking alternately at the lit tree in shadow behind me, and my puffy and swollen legs, bathed in sunlight, in front of me.
A different kind of Christmas, to be sure. (I don't usually sleep for 11 hours on Christmas Eve night, nor am I generally back in bed for a four hour nap within an hour of getting up.) But, still, it is Christmas. And I'm grateful that I'm here, sitting on my couch instead of lying in my bed, even if I'm just up long enough to eat some eggs and a creamcicle. I'm grateful that Judy is here with me. I'm grateful for all of the sights and sounds of the season, for all of the love that I have in my life.
I won't lie. I wish I felt better. I wish my neck and feet and legs and arms and fingers and toes didn't hurt from the swelling caused by Tuesday's treatment. I wish that my mouth could handle tamales, and that I felt good enough to make fudge and sugar cookies, and that I could stay awake long enough to watch a Christmas movie in its entirety.
But, all of that said, I'm feeling better than I thought I would be. And I'm certain it's because Christmas brings joy and peace to my heart, to my soul, in a way that few other things do.
I love Christmas. I love everything about it. I love the smells and the memories and the abundance of love that is everywhere, if we but look for it.
My limbs are swollen and sore. It hurts to keep my head up, because the skin on my neck is stretched to maximum capacity. But I'm alive, and I'm praying that the very medicine that's making me miserable today will be what keeps me around for another year.
It's Christmas. It's the day on which we celebrate all that is good in this life. I'm so grateful for this time of the year, for the unification that comes from so many people putting so much love out into the world. I'm grateful for the opportunity to celebrate the birth of my Savior, and for the reminder that He chose to come here, to live and to die, so that we might have eternal life. His was, truly, the greatest gift.
Merry Christmas, my dears. With love.