Holidays can truly be a magical time of year. For me, anytime my family can get together is time to be treasured. I knew my Dad was driving down sometime this week for Thanksgiving but was thrilled to get a phone call from my brother on Saturday telling me that Dad had decided to hop in the car and drive down earlier than expected. I called Dad to see if he wanted company and all but flew to the car in my excitement to see him.
On Sunday I was able to drive to SLC to pick up my brother and sister-and-law who had flown in from New York. The drive up was uneventful as I made my way to where they were visiting with her family. By the time we climbed into the car to head back big, fluffy snowflakes were starting to drift down in lazy spirals. I love the way snow looks as it falls, blanketing everything in a clean blanket of white, but this quickly became thicker and thicker until you could hardly see the lines in the road. It got to the point where I couldn't recognise where on the trip I was and there was nothing to do except to slowly follow the tail lights of the car in front of me.
It wasn't frightening in the least (the roads weren't slick) and I was left with the strangest feeling of being held safe and secure in the warmth of my car. We talked and laughed, made comments about the wall of snow accumulating against the side of the car, and eventually came to the safe harbor of my brother's house.
Bags and blankets were snatched from the car and we entered into a home full of delicious smells, a bright and cheerful Christmas tree shining softly into the night and the warmth of hugs from the family waiting for our arrival.
Before long the snow was already melting, becoming nothing more than a brief reminder of weather to come, but the warmth inside the house continued on.....
I love the holidays.