Well, Christmas was wonderful and fun.

It was the first time that we traveled as a family since our overnight trip to orlando for Matthew's birthday last year. We needed it, too.

Sometimes, driving across the state line is worth it just for the wonder of returning again. No matter what, there's no place like home.

I've been a little sad that December is already over, I wish it could stay just a little bit longer.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for the new year, but I always wish the festivities hadn't gone so quickly.

I've realized, during my pondering on the matter, that celebrating is just being intentional.

I want more of that in my everyday life. I thought I had invented an original tagline if I ever opened a cupcake shop, it was, "because every day is a celebration," (but cupcake girls had the same original idea.)

Everyday is a mini celebration, worthy of good meals and laughter. The world outside can say what it will, but inside the four walls of my home is a haven. Dim lights and music at night, impromptu dance parties, baking cookies. In whatever way we chose, we can celebrate and create days our children will remember.

That's how I want my life to be.

I'm packing for family Christmas in South Carolina.

I'm excited, my kids are bouncing off the walls.

Meanwhile, my heart is heavy.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Eric, his family, and everybody else who loved him.

My heart goes out to his regular customers; after all, he's made their coffee for six years.

That's a special bond, too.

And considering that Eric had perfected the art of retail conversation, I am confident that his customers will feel the void.

I'm just so sad, and I don't know what else to do than to write about it.

This will be the first time in six years that Eric and I won't exchange texts on Christmas, so I'm going to write him a letter instead.

Dear Eric,

Well, friend, this sure isn't getting any easier. I'm trying really hard to pull from your humor and not be so sad. Carlos and I have laughed hysterically several times, just sitting on the bed remembering you. And I keep sending Michelle "remember when Eric, ...?" texts. I can't help it, it's just the way I'm processing all this. We are all in shock, but I think you always knew you'd die young. I'd hush you whenever you'd say it, but you knew.

You were a mix of a child at heart and an old soul. You had a depth about you, I always felt like you genuinely cared about me. You were fiercely protective over us girls whenever creepers came around, or hard times fell. I'm sorry for the times I was unkind to you, that store was sometimes like a pressure cooker, and you often got the brunt of it.

Because I know you'd want to know, I got the boys each a 3DS for Christmas.

I miss you, buddy.

-me

then space began to toll.

I felt a funeral in my brain,
and mourners, to and fro,
kept treading, treading, till it seemed
that sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
a service like a drum
kept beating, beating, till I thought
my mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
and creak across my soul
with those same boots of lead,
then space began to toll.

As all the heavens were a bell,
and being but an ear,
and I and silence some strange race,
wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,
and I dropped down and down--
and hit a world at every plunge,
and finished knowing--then--

-Emily Dickinson

my friend...

Today I got the kind of call that nobody wants to get.

My dear friend and former co-worker, Eric, had died.

He was standing on his feet one minute, collapsed the next.

At first, I was obviously in shock.

I felt the need to go outside, I don't know why.

It just felt like it was too much energy for my little house to contain. I needed to breathe.

I called my friend, Michelle, and we talked for a while.

Michelle, Eric, and I all worked together, and we had a special bond.

I came back inside, and that's when the tears hit.

That's when I realized that I'd never see my friend again.

What followed next was a lot of sobbing, and telling Carlos my long list of reasons why I loved Eric so much. Carlos happened to know and love Eric as well, so he just listened and nodded his head while I rambled on.

I know I probably sounded like I was over explaining, that's probably because Eric and I were unlikely friends.

But what y'all have to know is that my Starbucks family kept me going during a very hard time in my life. They were a gift to me. Sure, we had our own blend of dysfunction, but what family doesn't?

Eric was a 20-something gamer, proud to be born on halloween.

He was the most hilarious, intelligent, awkward, tenderhearted guy.

He'd tell me things like "every time I watch an action hero movie, I ask myself if it's an ok movie for your kids to see." He never steered me wrong, either.

He'd give my kids video games he didn't want anymore even though he could have traded them in for money.

Once, I dropped my car keys into a trash can of rancid whipped cream and other disgusting things, and he went in after them.

He was an old fashioned southern gentlemen.

He'd never give any of us girls a hug because he was afraid he'd "accidentally grab our boobs."

He'd throw himself into a violent wall hug to avoid any inappropriate contact when he's go around the corner at the same time as anybody else.

He would occasionally get off the mountain dew and it would result in the "fun bobby" affect.

Theres a thousand funny, happy, sweet memories that I have of Eric.

I will cherish them forever.

Rest in peace, Eric.

And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being my friend.

I love you.

Christmastime is here.

I love Christmas.
I love the soft glow at night when
the tree is lit, and it's chilly enough to wear flannel pajamas.
I love baking for my kids, and listening to Christmas music.
The crafts that come home from school, delightfully exploding in glitter.
(this year, from my last remaining elementary aged child.)
When the kids get out of school for break, and the freedom in the air is palpable.
It's magic. Pure magic.

We're going out of town next week for Duke family Christmas.
I have a vision in my head of it going perfectly.
If that's a pipe dream, I don't want to know; not yet.
I just want to breathe and take it all in, but somehow it always ends up being more work than anyone could ever imagine. With meals, cleaning, entertaining kids, it ends up being mostly like the opening scene of home alone- where everyone is secretly wishing their family would just disappear.
But I love it, though.

I'm happy for the new year.
I have a few simple resolutions tucked away in my heart.
I feel like I'm on the edge of glory in many ways.
I feel like I'm getting better every year.
That's just how Christmas makes me feel.
Perhaps that's why I love it so much.

Merry Christmas, y'all.