PHOTO BY MARK MENDEZ
MY PHONE’S BUZZING OFF THE HOOK as text messages roll in about whose car we’re taking next week to pick up the tree. Another beep, and I look down to see an ongoing debate about Secret Santa for the gift exchange or gifts just for the kids or gifts for everyone. Meanwhile, my brothers and I will draw straws to find out which unfortunate one of us will help Mom pull Christmas boxes out of the attic over the garage.
For a moment I take a deep breath, reeling from the premonition of a season of chaotic plans, too many people in the kitchen and many more favors than there is time to grant. But then I am reminded of my grandma’s wisdom and my dad’s patience. “I love a noisy house”, she once told me. “It means everyone is here, and the house is full and everyone’s having fun.” This is why she’s my sage. And my dad? As we were running back and forth and fighting over silly details, he’d sit back, enjoy the ride and find true joy just watching his family care so much to make the holidays magical. And he was right, no matter who won the many holiday debates, Christmas was always magical. And my grandma’s affectionate outlook reminds me that I love this season because it’s beautiful, but also wild and loud and full.