My brother is hosting the annual Christmas together for our branch of the Lancasters at his place. He does this so we don’t have to go to our parents and be subjected to our father all night long. He gets cranky when he’s away from home and always leaves early, much to all of our disappointment.
Ha. Kidding. We’re glad when the old man bails. That’s when the real fun begins.
“I won’t be too tired for you. Not tonight. After all, it’s your birthday.” I lean in and kiss her again, ignoring the little cries of protest from our daughter. “I love you, Birdy.”
“I love you too, Crew.” It’s her turn to touch my cheek, her gaze thoughtful as she studies my face, just before she glances toward the window. “Oh my gosh, it’s snowing!”
We make our way to the window and stare out at the city below, the snowflakes falling steadily. I wrap my arm around Wren’s shoulders and pull her in close, our baby in her arms, all three of us watching the snow fall in silence. Like the sap I’ve become, I feel tears spring to the corner of my eyes and I close them tight for a second, chasing those tears away. This isn’t a time to cry, for Christ’s sake. I’m just overwhelmed with love.
With happiness.
I never thought life could be this good.