Midnight

12:21 AM.
It is, officially, Christmas.
I cannot sleep.
This is not the anticipatory sleeplessness I remember.
But it is sleeplessness.
This is the first Christmas of the new season of our lives.
Right now, Kat is in my mom's bed upstairs.
Olivia, Abby, and a broken-limbed Mama are downstairs on mattresses on the floor.
Zoe, Molly, and Henry are in their crates.
Arthur just got done trying to climb up the chimney.
Dad left about two hours ago.

The presents are under the tree already, but I have no desire to peek.
I fell asleep on the couch earlier, by a pile of dryer-warm clothes, listening to Sarah McLachlan.
But it is quiet now.
Except for the ticking of the clock.
It is Christmas again.

Another year has gone by.
So much has happened.
We've all grown so much.
Sitting here in the silence, I find my heart at peace.

Still, my heart is crying for progress.
For growth.
To take your hand and move forward.
I came to the realization long ago that I could not do this alone.
Happiness is to be shared with others.
Even though life may change, and Christmases from here on out may never look the same, my heart is at peace with that.

And we will wake up in the morning.
Five Vaughan women.
Three dogs and a cat.
We'll brew coffee, wrap up in blankets, and watch bits and pieces of Christmas movies.
Until Larry walks through the door.

I still can't sleep.
But it is Christmas.
So, Merry Christmas to all.
My heart is with you, especially, tonight.