Last year, Mr. Hallmark and I missed Christmas in California.  Being the traditionalist that I am, and finding comfort in familiarity, Mr. Hallmark knew it would be tough for me to miss so he tried to recreate the holidays for me at home.  We got a real tree, eggnog, Bing Crosby, the whole nine yards.  Our Christmas morning was spent enjoying cinnamon pastry while opening our stockings with a wee little 5 month old Sophie, who was thrilled over her latest toy treasures from Santa.  We had a wonderful morning, but it didn’t feel like Christmas to me – it just felt like a lovely day playing dress up or staging a holiday with all the props necessary, but without all the characters.  His family joined us for brunch and we talked and laughed over roasted red bell pepper soup and pesto, tomato, and fresh mozzarella paninis while Bing warmly serenated our meal.  Thoughts of my family gathering together laughing and loud filled my mind throughout the day and I missed them and all their wonderful noise.  We spent the rest of Christmas day the Jewish way: with Chinese and a movie.  It was a really lovely day, and I adored being with people I love, but I missed my family, our traditions, and all the warm fuzzy feelings of Christmas.

This year, we flew to San Diego for the holidays, and warmed ourselves in delightfully sunny 60 degree weather.  Actually, kind of a lie.  Mr. Hallmark will attest that I found it quite chilly, but it was pleasantly warmer than New York City and I enjoyed taking morning strolls without wanting to flee indoors as quickly as possible and being free of my layers and wool coat.  The best part though, of course, was the presence of my husband and family, all under the same roof.  And, even though our Christmas’  have begun to change with our ever-growing family, the day is still filled with that same contagious joy and laughter that it did when I was a child, and a million amazing moments to remember with those I love and treasure most.