First Time

Yesterday was the first Christmas Eve at home without our eldest son Tristan, 25.  I snuffled and sobbed half the day while preparing our traditional fondue dinner. Although we Skyped with him a couple of times during the day, it does not compare with the giant squeezy hugs he gives us or when I get to kiss him on the neck or by the ear or when he makes us laugh till our sides hurt.  Thank goodness that we still have Damien with us!!

I wrote my 93-year-old Dad a quick note to wish him a Merry Christmas Eve and told him of how I was missing my boy. He wrote back (loosely translated from the French):

I understand your emotions, particularly at this time of year. But look at it on the bright side, your boys are getting an excellent education (to ensure a good living).  It warms the heart.
I wish you a HAPPY NEW YEAR, especially good HEALTH.
Your Dad who does not forget you.

Sniff.  I thought I was done crying.

Today we are headed for my sister Doreen's for Christmas dinner and although it's not like having Tristan home, we will be surrounded by the warm hug of her large family with numerous little ones running about.

Joyeux Noël!

Stella