This Christmas was a weird one for me. It has been a rough couple of months. December, no exception.
Anyway, it's Christmas Eve, and when my brother and his family went home after dinner, my parents and I drank tea, watched The Grinch, and then, I spent the rest of the evening by myself in the basement, wrapping presents and watching Meet Me In St. Louis, something I usually do with my sisters. It doesn't quite feel like Christmas this year. But I've been thinking about all the family that I do have around me, and I don't think I could get through this life without them. I love these people. And I'm grateful for my mom, when, even though I am 22, she still gives me her loud opinion on the short hem in my skirts. And my dad. The man is obsessed with me getting good grades. But regardless, my skirts remain short and my grades plateau at average. And you know, somehow, they still love me more than I could possibly deserve. Because they tell me I try, and those are the kinds of things that make them proud.