In the Quiet After

It’s the morning after the morning after Christmas — and I’m still in bed, trying to hold on to a little quiet before the day begins.

So much has happened this month in preparation for Christmas, and most of my energy has been poured into work. But these last couple of days at home have been such a gift — doing not much at all, and yet everything that matters. Being present. Being still. Being with my family.

I love taking pictures, but oddly enough, we’ve only taken one family photo this year — and I’m completely okay with that. It hasn’t even crossed my mind to document every moment… except for the food, of course (there’s been plenty of documentation there 😅). Perfectly orchestrated moments just haven’t felt important at all this year for me.

What has felt important is the time we’ve spent cocooned at home — the endless conversations, the cooking (so much cooking), the meals shared around the table, movie nights, watching Auggie and Daisy roam around the house, one of them visiting, and simply being together.

This morning, Stan brought me coffee in bed. I’m reading a book by one of my favorite authors — a gift from Michelle that made me cry when I opened it. And as I sit here, I can hear voices downstairs… Stan and Michelle chatting over breakfast in the kitchen. Just listening to them feels like music.

The older I get, the more I realize that moments — not experiences — are what truly stay with us. Yes, I still enjoy the gift-giving and the festive outings, but this year those things didn’t take center stage. Instead, I’ve felt an unexpected sense of peace settle in, and it’s been enough.

I used to be very much the “Martha” of Christmas at home — planning, organizing, doing all the things. But this year, stepping into a little more “Mary” has felt like a gift in itself.

So now I’ll finish another chapter of my book, take a few more sips of coffee, and let the day unfold as it will.

“We are made of those who came before us.”— Ocean Vuong