We landed at midnight, trading the warmth of Savannah for the bone-chilling cold of Boston. Diana and I had enjoyed a brief vacation – sans kids – to attend a wedding on Hilton Head Island with a few bonus days in Savannah. The bride was stunning, the groom was dashing, the shrimp gumbo was amazing. On the home front, grandparents were able to keep our boys alive while we partied like we were 22.
Tired as we were after our trip that night, I could see the determination in Diana’s eyes as we pulled into the driveway at 2 a.m. Come sunrise, she would be a woman on a mission. She was ready to round up the reindeer and all the other flotsam and jetsam of Christmas.
After a too-brief sleep, I awoke to the roar of the vacuum cleaner. Diana was already in a whirlwind of tree hauling and ornament packing. I desperately needed coffee to process the abrupt shift from soft sea breezes to the unrelenting hustle of the home front.
By the time the caffeine hit my system, Diana was outside, energetically tackling the holiday display. She looked like a bandolero with loops of extension cords wrapped around her. Under each arm was a plastic reindeer, their wide eyes frozen in an expression of alarm.
Honestly, I was overwhelmed just watching her. Christmas, 2018 was being carted off to storage. But part of me was relieved, too. Other than a few extra pounds around the waist and a beefy credit card balance, we were on the path to normalcy.
I left Diana to her mission and headed out the door to work. Welcome, 2019! We’re back and FCG is ready to rock.