Family weekend in the mountains — the Christmas present that my family-of-origin gave to each other.
Two parents, two sisters, two brothers-in-law. One husband, two children, four nephews. Four vehicles full of groceries and supplies. Some of us skiing, some snow boarding, some tubing. Puzzles, hot chocolate, sing-alongs.
Cacophony. Familiar sounds of the members of my clan playing, explaining, cooking, planning, cleaning, teasing, arguing, strategizing, analyzing, bantering. These are the sounds of my soul.
I bundle up for a little solitude. Walk outside away from cabin noise and, of course, city sounds. Pine trees reach to the stars in a dark sky. Silence falls on the 3-foot blanket of snow. I listen to the void and make it part of me.
I have it all. All that matters, anyway.
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