"Tecumseh"

I just got home from a closing campfire after the 7th long week of summer camp.  It's hard to believe there are only 2 more weeks left until camp transitions to a whole new routine with it's own struggles and challenges.  As I look back at the summer I wonder where it's gone and at the same time, week 2 seems like a lifetime ago.  So much has changed within those weeks.  The counselors have gone from nervous, wide eyed, bewildered folks into confident, wise adults who have done more and seen more

and experienced more in these past 7 weeks then some people will do in a year, or 2 or 3.  They've grown in their faith, their resilience, their ability to manage chaos and 10-200 screaming campers, and in their ability to connect with, empathize with, and love all who stepped through their doors.  Being a camp counselor is one of the hardest things you will ever do in your life. You will be exhausted, worn out physically, mentally, and emotionally, you'll probably be sick/hurt at some point, and you'll have campers who drive you up a wall.  Yet you will love every minute because camp is, well, camp.  Camp is a place you can know what LOVE is, what UNDERSTANDING takes, what SELFLESSNESS means, and where CARING abounds.  Camp has a lot of things-climbing walls, zip lines, blobs, rope swings, horses, slides-but none of those things are what camp is.  Campers will forget about the activities but they won't ever forget that an adult took the time to play a game alongside them, not be judgmental or put them down just because they are a kid, get wacky with them with no concern of what others might think, to know them, to love them even when they were unlovable, and they will leave knowing that someone cares for them.  And through all of that, camp will teach them that there is One who will forever and perfectly love them for all of their lives.  "God is most important to me, others are second only to him, and I am third."

What is camp?  Camp is all the little things that happen between the big things.  Camp is having a little river village boy come up to the staff table during dinner and have the complete attention of all the staff there as he performs a card trick, much to the bewilderment of all (FYI I'm still baffled).  Camp is about almost crying when you get a friendship bracelet.  Camp is about celebrating life and triumphs that come in all shapes and sizes from getting a blue band after a week of lessons to getting your horse to canter. Camp is sitting down next to a camper who's not even in your cabin and make a connection over a game of checkers.  Camp is about pointing out the awesomeness of others instead of putting others down to make you look good.  Camp is high fiving someone just for making it to the barn on time.  Camp is about the older kids cheering on the younger kids as they attempt a cheer leading routine or hip hop dance.  Camp is playing Flamingo hunter and going absolutely crazy because someone was able to make the ducky into the bucket. Camp is singing at the top of your lungs during Song fest even if you can't stay on key because you want the world to know how you feel about God.  Camp is about being speechless when a counselor gets the "it" of camp and can tell it better than you can.  Camp is where you can live each moment of each day to its fullest.

As I listened to Mike, Heidi, and Jordan play "Touch of the Master's Hand" I found myself thinking so much about my year as a counselor.  Those 9 weeks were the best weeks spent of my life.  They changed me, molded me, grew me from the inside out.  I learned what I was capable of, that it was okay to be the me God created me to be, and to love completely and selflessly.    I remember sitting at closing campfire with my girls each week, truly sad to see it come to an end, singing about an old violin, the spark that ignites the flame, or singing about the love we felt at camp.  It's being hot and sweaty at closing campfire but still wrapping your arms around the person next to you and swaying with the music.  It's giving out hugs to people you barely know.  It's taking the chief's creed seriously even as the whole ceremony might be strange to the casual observer.  It's about crying with your torchbearers who you have only known for a week but you know you won't see them again as campers.  Even now, 13 years later, the closing ceremonies bring up memories and emotions of how powerful that first summer is and how important it continues to be now.

I find it SO hard to explain camp to someone who hasn't gone through it.  Words are hard while emotions are plenty, but if there's one thing that's been on my heart this summer it's that this is for the kids.  Sometimes I do question why I do it over and over and over but I definitely live for these 3 months.  These 3 months remind me why I do it.  We have sleepless nights, long hours in the heat, and countless early mornings over and over so we can make sure that every single child, from week 1 to week 9, feel like they had an experience that was made just for them.  It doesn't matter that it was the 100th time we've done an activity, for that one camper it's their first and only opportunity.  We are here for them, to help them have a better tomorrow.  That's why we do what we do and because of that, we are forever changed as well.

Why are you Running? Are you training for something? Nope, just running....

Now that the weather is getting nicer, more people are out and about as I am running.  I usually try to run when I know no one is going to be around.  Running is a very personal thing for me.  I don't do it for anyone but me and it's my time.  I realize that I live alone and that personal time should be easy but it isn't always.  When you're home, you're always feeling like you need to be doing something.  Chores around the house, catching up on bills, cleaning, etc.  But when you run, it's the only thing you need to be doing at that moment and it's nice.  Now people are coming up to me and asking if I'm

training for something.  Not necessarily (that seems confusing to some).  I'm just running....I "like" it.  I may not always look forward to the run, it may hurt while I run, but I have never regretted running.  I've regretted not finding the the time or motivation to run but never got back from a run regretting the time I spent.  And I never come back from a run upset or stressed.  It's an excellent stress reliever.  Bills, relationships, work chores, whatever may be on my mind, I can guarantee I won't come back from the run still stressed.  The problems will still be there but they won't seem as bad for the time afterwards.  Besides running I've also been working on building up my strength in my upper body and core.  Goal: Consecutive pull ups...which are MUCH harder than they were in elementary for the fitness test (maybe because I weigh more?).  I've been doing a Warrior Dash yearly and this year I signed up for a Spartan Race.  I completed a half marathon and want to do more.  I love watching American Ninja Warrior and wish I could do something like that (I lack so much in the upper body strength).  I sometime look back and wonder what would have happened if I had gotten an interest in fitness earlier in life...like in my twenties, when my body recovered faster and I had more energy and my joints didn't hurt after a long day.  I can't regret what I

didn't do at the time.  Then I look back at the 2-3 years where running, even walking, hurt and I was very limited to what I could do.  Once I got healed up and was able to start moving again, I never stopped.  I signed up for a soccer league that next year, did my first Warrior Dash, and got my focus.  Why?  Because I spent those years hurting and thinking I'd never get better, that it would always hurt.  So every day it doesn't hurt is a gift and I'm thankful for every time I run or work out or play a soccer game and I find myself sore....in the good way!

Youth is wasted on the young....I never understood what that meant...until now.  That didn't make sense until I realized what it meant...you don't appreciate what you have until you don't have it anymore.  I'm pushing myself now because I probably didn't push myself then.  Don't let yourself waste anymore time now waiting for your life to begin because it already has!

Just Words on a Screen...so what?

The other day I got some rather nasty messages from an ebay user who claimed I had sent them an empty box and were quite upset and demanding why I had done what I had done.  Wow, dude, slow down.  Way to jump right away to blaming, demanding, and assuming that what had happened was a personal attack on someone I didn't know.  The first question I asked was, "Was the box damaged?" He replied that there was a hole in the box but no way did a book go through there.  I assured him that there was in fact a book in the box when it left my place.  I asked for pictures of the box so I could see the shape it was in and it appeared that at one of the many post offices it went through, the box was damaged and the post office had tried fixing it.  However, somehow, a 5 pound large textbook got left behind and someone, somewhere, has a Physiology textbook they probably don't want.  I explained that I was sorry but that it had, in fact, been taped up well and packaged tight when it went to the post office but that I'd be willing to give a refund because of damage in transit.  This person was not taking it well though because obviously their life had been hugely inconvenienced.  They said that the post office did not receive a box with a book in it (obviously not realizing how many post offices it went through to get to south FL and that any one of them along the way could have made the mistake) and that I sold him an empty box.  I almost had to laugh at that.  I'd been trying to sell off that book since I left college....in 2004....and I didn't want it anymore!  He demanded the refund but due to Comcast (continued) issues, I didn't have any way of getting a refund to him until the next day because I needed a computer, not an app on a phone to get that done.  I asked him to be patient until the next day when I got to work.  He replied, after midnight, "where's my refund?"  He also responded around 8 am, "Where's my refund?"  I wasn't at work yet and I told him I was headed there soon and I'd get it taken care of.  His words?  "Still waiting.  No refund."  Oh....my...goodness....shake....my....head.  I issued a refund...no word of "Thanks" or even, "I got it. Thanks."  And now to the point of this post.

We live behind computer screens nowadays, writing words on a screen without any thought, care, or consideration behind them anymore.  I see it on facebook, comments left on news articles, and just about anything where there is an opinion (even facts) posted, we feel obligated to not only share our views, but to insult and poke fun of the person who posted it (and leave horrible comments against liberals and conservatives alike, even if it's not a political issue).  We don't feel the repercussions of our words....I mean they are just words on a screen going to another screen with words on it.  People get their panties in a bunch, the hairs on their neck raised on high alert, and their blood pressure up anytime something is posted that they don't agree with.  Just because we don't agree on a point has never been a cause for one to get physically worked up over.  You're responding in anger and stewing over a post about a person you haven't met, are likely not to meet.  However are they doing the same?  Are they as worked up as you?  This isn't the same thing but I read once that bitterness is a poison you take that you intended for the other person to take.  This isn't bitterness but I feel like the affect is the same.  I vowed a few years ago that I would abstain from posting political, religious, social posts on facebook.  Why?  Because I had done it before and unintentionally started arguments and I became hesitant to even open FB for fear of what attack may lie once I logged in. It didn't mean I no longer held views and held them strongly...it just meant that FB was not the platform for me to use.  I liked hearing about others lives, sharing my own with people I didn't get the chance to see very often, and "seeing" people I had long lost contact with.  But I wanted it to be free from strife and high blood pressure.  I can say that I no longer hold any hesitation in opening my FB.  I stay away from any arguments and I will make people "acquaintances" if I realize that most of their posts are trying to stir up trouble or are constantly bashing conservatives (I single that out because I see it a lot on my personal FB news feed).  I still have folks who are constantly (it feels) pushing their beliefs on FB and I'd love to respond...however I will do so in person.  Never on the screen.  If you want to know what I believe, ask me.  I won't hold back.  In fact, I'll state what I believe here.  But I won't discuss it.  It's not for an argument or debate.  You want to have a conversation with me...great.  Let's set a date.  But let's always remember one thing...your words that you put on your screen that travel through cyberspace and arrive instantly at another's screen are, in fact, going to another person who has a life, who loves, and who hurts just like you.  Words hurt.  The kids got it wrong.  Sticks and stones will break my bones and words can wound just as much.


Spoiler alert...don't read on if you don't really want to know.




So who am I?  Really shouldn't be of any surprise here.
I'm a conservative republican who believes wholeheartedly in small government and that the government is not here to solve our social issues.  Please let me keep the money I make and stop giving it away to those who refuse to work (some truly need it, not all though!).  My college education was not free and I survived.  I'm pro-life and I believe that someday I'll see all the lives extinguished here on earth in heaven simply because we couldn't be "inconvenienced" with a baby and it was my body so I can do what I want, despite the fact that another life was taken in the process.  I believe in the literal 6 day Creation, no question...and yes, I'm a scientist too and the two can co-exist.  I believe in the Bible.  I believe that some actions (you can probably guess which ones!) that our society is attempting to legalize and condone are, in fact, a sin.  A sin much like others but still wrong.  However I was taught to not be judgmental and that God told us to love the sinner but hate the sin.  I believe that just because we don't agree on a subject, cause, or political party, we can still be friends, we don't have to argue, and I don't have to agree with you to be tolerant of your beliefs you hold.  However I believe we can still be FB friends.  We may not have a ton to talk about in real life but I'm sure we can come up with something.  

Lost Pony, Stinging Snow, and "What? We Can't Watch Anything Without Power?"

Yesterday was yet another adventure in the ever continuing saga of Amie and Mary Anne adventures.  I wish we'd written them down from the start.  Nothing ever seems out of the ordinary anymore.  Yesterday started out just like any other day....for about 10 minutes.  Amie picked me up for work and said, "Today we're going to go help a neighbor."  Ummm okay?  Amie had gotten a call at 4 am asking if we had any horses out because there were a few on Springboro Rd.  She checked and we didn't and then while she was going back to sleep, she remembered that a neighbor had a grey horse.  She called and it was them.  The police got one horse rounded up and back into one of our pastures but his brown stud colt was still loose.  So we set out in the stinging ice mixture falling from the sky (much earlier than predicted) to find this colt...with no idea where to start.  Since he wasn't running the roads and no one had seen him, I took to the woods where our early morning trail rides take place in the summer.  The idea was that if he had slipped and fallen into a ravine, he probably couldn't have gotten out because he was either injured or the fact that our ravines are steep and the snow was so wet he wouldn't have had a chance.  I checked all the ravines at the top of the hill before heading towards Ghost Cabin, down to the creek, and from there I went south towards St Rd 18 where I encountered bogs and, sadly, tons of junk.  I knew if he had gotten down there he would have gotten tangled with the junk that was down there (why people?), he would have gotten hurt and would probably still be down there. I got so far down into one ravine that was so narrow that even if I was willing to get into the small creek of water flowing through at the bottom, it wasn't wide enough for me to walk.  I didn't really want to walk out and then go around to check next to the river so I decided to go up.  I crawled, hands and knees, grabbing tree roots, and made my way up.  I popped up behind a neighbor's house and then proceeded to go down the other side on my butt.  Now I was next to the river and at this point I could have sworn I heard a horse snort so I followed to the point where I thought I heard the noise but I couldn't find anything so I started walking towards camp.  I was covered in snow, clothes were wet and heavy, but I was soaked with sweat underneath.  I get back to the creek and I found 4 hoof prints.  With the heavy snow and mud underneath, they weren't clear horse prints but the size, depth, and shape were the same.  But there were only 4.  This was right next to the river where the creek flowed into it.  I go up a little and find 4 more and it looks like he's following the creek, in and out.  A little bit more and I found 4 more...and that was it.  I looked all around the area and didn't find anymore tracks, so I assumed he started following the creek back up.  I radioed to Amie who was back from checking other areas and she was going to go into the creek the opposite way and see if she found any more evidence.  I headed out the other way from the valley and met up with her and after 2 hours, 3 miles, and lots of snow....we never saw the horse.  The neighbor was quite grateful that we tried.  (As of evening time, still no sign)  The snow was blinding now and we needed to get our own horses fed so we could go inside and warm up.

Feeding took a few hours as we set out a few more round bales, put blankets on, and gave the mini farm animals more straw to snuggle into.  As we finished, we got word that power was out.  And the one thing we wanted to do after the morning we'd had?  Take a shower, get warm, and watch movies. It's amazing how quiet a house is without power.  Nothing's running-no fish tank, heater, fridge, nothing.  So quiet.  The kids were in despair wondering what they were going to do for the rest of the day!  Reminding them to not use the iPad.  Why?  Well there's no power left.  So?  So if it's dead, it's dead and we can't recharge it.  Yeah but I want to play now.  :-P  Kids.  They headed out to play in the snow while I was able to use my charged computer to do a little non-internet work.  I think the power came back around 5ish and we were set.  Everyone was happy, electronics got charged, and the heat felt great.  Just another day here.  

MACC 2016-Where Everyone Knows Your Name!

Well the Mid-American Camping Conference has come to a close and once again, it was amazing to be in the company of a few hundred like-minded folks.  Being in the camping industry, you often come across folks who have no idea what exactly goes on at a camp, they wonder what you do when no one's there, and they don't always understand the impact your work has on people.  We are within our own mission field, impacting our campers and weekend guests for a lifetime.  I wish I could have remembered all the amazing statistics of the impact an overnight camp can have on a child, the impact one caring adult can have on a kid who's gone through adverse events, and the importance of taking the time to invest in the life of a child.  What's so fun about the conference is being among people who know exactly the struggles and triumphs, the work and hours that go into camping, and truly realize how important camping is to kids.  This isn't a job, it's a lifestyle and it's a commitment to something greater than yourself. You'll work incredibly long hours, get paid very little, and sacrifice time with friends and family....but you do it for a cause that's totally worth it.  We listened to great speakers, networked with folks who work in like departments, and got reenergized for the year ahead.  Our last speaker spoke of empathy, of looking at others and viewing life from their perspective, and taking the time to truly listen (not "listening" to respond, but truly listening) in a conversation, child or adult.  We ended this session by singing the Cheers theme song.  I never really listened to the words of the song until that point and I realized that is the reason so many kids are touched by camp.  I know I make it my goal to know the name of every EQ camper that comes through the barn.  It's important that they know that we're glad that they are here.  How many times do we not listen, we dismiss their thoughts and ideas, and are so critical of kids?  They are our legacy!  It's not just about boating, archery, campfires, and smores....those are just the tools we use to make the impact.

Cheers at MACC

In Loving Memory....Fond Memories of My Summers at the Lake

Monday morning I found out that my "Uncle" Rob had unexpectedly passed away.  It had been years since I had last seen or talked with him but the news still hit me hard.  He wasn't my uncle but I never knew him by any other name but Uncle Rob.  In fact, to be honest, I have more dear memories of him than I do of many of my uncles.  I mostly saw him when we took our annual summer vacation to Lake Michigan where we stayed at Gintaris resort with my dad's brother's family. These past few days I have thought a lot about our summers there.  I got to spend really good quality time with my cousins and aunt and uncle that I didn't get with anyone else in my extended family.  It was awesome to all stay under one roof, cooking meals together, carrying everything up and down those thousands of stairs (ok maybe not thousands but at some point we counted and definitely in the triple digits), and spending evenings in the lodge with no tv, no internet (we didn't know what that was in the early 90's!), and no phones.  I remember that Uncle Tom would give us basketball practice in the morning before we headed down to the beach and I really appreciated that time with him.  I remember that whoever cooked meant that the other group had to clean up.  I remember my dad and Uncle Tom telling me that a good dryer (of dishes) took care of what a bad washer did....not sure if that was the best advice or not.  I remember the dads cooking out on the grills under the beach umbrellas because it was raining.  I remember going to sleep with the best sound on earth....crashing waves.  All the girls in one room, the 2 boys in the other.  The game room that held the same games for so many years-pool table, pin ball, and pac man (and I think a racing game??).  I remember our families getting so big that the kids were "entrusted" to stay in another small lodge away from the parents because there was no more room in the big lodge.  Hot sand, burned shoulders, walks up and down the beach to try to find the "point", finding sea shells and rocks shaped like states, attempting to find the sand bars which, to our fascination, moved!, scoping out the boys that were there for the week along with my cousins, making smores on the beach, watching the sunsets each night, and, of course, eating at Redamaks one time before leaving. I went back to the lake one time since graduating, just with my immediate family, but it wasn't the same.  Nothing will ever be like it was back then...the Hunsberger crew-Tom, Jill, Ryan, Amy, Melissa, Kristin, and my own family....and usually a friend or two tagged along.  Still new memories to be made, while realizing you can't duplicate the past ones.

Since there was no TV, internet, etc to "occupy" our evenings once the sun went down, we played lots of games from board games to card games, had dance parties, and just plain had fun in that big living room of the lodge. This is where my fondest memories of Uncle Rob came in.  Uncle Rob and Aunt Sally...not related to them but I always felt like I was.  I always thought they were "so cool"!  I felt like he treated myself and my cousins like his kids, his little princesses, daddy's little girls. I remember always asking, "Will they be there?" before heading up to the lake because of the value of their presence. I cannot exactly describe what he did or said, but I just remember feeling loved by him and feeling special even with all those other adults and kids running around the lodge.  I felt like if I was talking to him, nothing else around him mattered because he paid so much attention to the conversation.  Looking back, I realize how much love, patience, attention, and devotion it takes to really pay attention and truly listen to the words of a child and to not dismiss them or half heartedly listen.  I remember dancing with him to some very silly children's songs during our dance parties (one of those songs was definitely about Daniel Boone and I hope my cousins, if they read this, may remember those dance parties too).  And I remember holding his daughter when God decided to bless him with his own children.  And I still felt special even though he had his own girls now.  He had this way of making you feel like you were somebody.  And then we stopped going to the lake....I had no way of really seeing him or his family anymore, time passed, and it all became just a memory.  I didn't understand wholly how much I thought of him until I got older and realized how much it takes to give children your time, your attention, your love and then...I found out he was gone.  I never got to tell him how much I thought of him.  Many years had passed since I'd last seen him and his family.  It might seem strange to have such strong fond memories of someone I saw one week a year over 20 years ago....but that's the impact he had.  He had so much love in his heart and even my preteen self realized that.  I find it extremely fitting that he will forever live on at the lake.  And he'll live on elsewhere too.  Because I realize he taught us all a lesson, one that I can personally continue on at camp and try affect the lives of so many campers and guests....to stop, listen, and to make them feel that someone cares and that they are indeed special to someone.  Sometimes all you need in life is one person to make you feel that way and it can change the course of your life.  I ask the same of you all as well.  It takes no money, no training, just time, patience, and caring.  You just never know who you might touch.

Christmas Memories

This is a recollection of my fondest and strongest memories of Christmas and the traditions that came with it.  For my mom and dad;

Christmas season officially began with the putting up of the Nativity scene outside the house.  That was something my dad and I would do.  It was just a dad/daughter thing for as long as I remember.  Going down into the basement to gather the wood cutouts, the poles, making multiple trips to the garage (and eventually barn) to gather the necessary tools and ladder.  For the most part, it was my job to "design" the layout.  Dad and I would discuss very important questions like where the wise men should go, the direction the sheep would be facing, where the donkey should be resting.  No matter what, it was a talking point each year.  Usually while we were conquering this project, mom would be inside bringing up decorations for the house from the basement.  Sometimes it was absolutely freezing outside and that necessitated multiple breaks by the fireplace.  Other times it was warm and Christmas seemed so far off.  When I was little, my jobs were small.  As I grew, the jobs grew with me.  I learned to handle the hammer, screwdriver, post hole driver, and socket wrench in the Nativity set-up.  Sometimes we talked about life....other times we worked in silence...both were good.  After we got the Nativity up, it was time to go inside and Mom and I would work on decorating the house.  Pictures up on the cupboards, Christmas scenes set up, wreaths hung, candle rings and candles set out and all the other decorations were put up.  When I was little little, I remember going to Bluffton to pick out our live Christmas tree.  All 4 of us would pile into the old red pick up truck and head on out to pick up our tree.  I don't remember a bunch about picking out the tree but I remember the shop...I remember the tree toppers and the smell of that dark shop where we paid for the tree.  I don't remember us really buying anything inside that shop but for some reason I remember the shop clearly.  At some point, we stopped with the live trees and went to the cut ones.  I remember picking out the perfect one, then trying to get it in the stand and having to be the one who held onto the tree while mom or dad laid on the ground adjusting the stand until we could get them straight.  Then came the challenge of getting it into the house with as few needles dropping as possible.  Up from the basement came the decorations for the tree and lights that may or may not have worked.  David and I always got a new ornament each year...usually something to commemorate something that happened.  A lego ornament when I started getting interested in legos, a snowman carrying a feed sack when I started at camp, etc.  And such was the beginning of the Christmas season at our house.

Growing up, my parents always had Mondays off so that's when they did their Christmas shopping.  I enjoyed getting picked up by both of them from school on that day.  Sometimes we went back out shopping with David and me after that but usually we went on the weekends.  And where did we almost always eat lunch while out shopping? In the one place to eat in the mall at the time, MCL. ;-) Not my most favorite place to eat but I usually got a piece of pie out of it.  Shopping was so much fun.  With my limited budget as a kid, I always thought hard about what one present I was getting each of the family members.  Something I learned from my parents and what I love doing now is getting/making gifts that matter.  Ones that you put thought into.  I loved the funny tags my parents would make for the gifts.  I got gifts from some very strange fellows, celebrities, even my dog.  ;-)  To this day, not all my gifts come from my parents.  

Christmas eve-now this was a night about tradition.  After finishing up wrapping, cleaning the house, and preparing food, we would dress up and have a formal Christmas dinner on our fine china (that I was terrified to break when we hand washed them) in our formal dining room.  Steaks, potatoes, shrimp cocktail, and dessert filled our bellies full.  A doctrine tape on the true reason for the season followed dinner and listening to it in the same room where the tree and some of the presents were.  It was definitely hard to focus when you wondered why lay under that wrapping paper.  ;-)  Afterwards it was into our pajamas and Mom would read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to me.  This book was very old, published in the 1940's, but there was no other book to be read from.  Sometimes after my door was shut and I tried to go to sleep, I could hear things going on downstairs and I wondered what was going on down there.  Later I might find it was more presents being wrapped or a toy being put together.  I always found that the filling of the stocking to be quite wondrous.  I don't know why I found it wondrous, but it was always empty when I went to bed and filled no matter what time I woke up in the morning.  Of course, at first light as a kid I was up and ready to open presents.  There really was no reason for me to get up and out of bed so early.  There was no opening presents until my dad had gotten up and ready and headed to the hospital to do his rounds.  Sometimes it took an hour...sometimes it took more.  Sometimes, it felt like it took all day long...when you're 8 years old!   We always had breakfast casserole for our Christmas day breakfast and when I was quite impatient, I would request that we eat breakfast after presents!  As I got older, breakfast came first, then presents, then most likely lots of playing with the gifts and naps!  I appreciate that my parents wanted us to be home for the actual holiday of Christmas.  I definitely liked being home for our family Christmas with no where to go and no schedule to keep.  

It was hard when things started to change for us for Christmas.  David wasn't always there, the actual days we celebrated were no longer the 24/25th, and sometimes I wasn't there as work and travel took me away.  No matter what though, my parents have always attempted to accommodate the desires of their kids to continue with traditions.  Whether it was something we wanted to eat, where we wanted to celebrate, and the traditions we wanted to continue, my parents have made it about family and it always takes me back to those days when Christmas was full of wonder and we were all together as our family of 4.  I remember getting my Nintendo and David and I setting it up and playing....David getting a movie and all of us sitting down to watch it....getting a board game and getting the family to sit around the table and play.  Life seemed so simple back then.  Nowhere to go, no distractions....just us.  There's a few more of us now, the schedules are a little harder to accommodate, and time with family limited as work and other duties call.  But there's still a few things that I can count on.  I hope that I can continue to make Christmas as special, magical, and family oriented with my own family someday.  Thank you Mom and Dad for making this a wondrous time of year that is so ingrained in my memory that a Christmas 20 years ago feels like yesterday and certain sights and smells bring back fond memories.  It was never about the presents, but about our presence.