Days of Miracle and Wonder

For all the trials and tribulations 2020 brought, it also brought the Missus and me two more granddaughters. Rylan arrived in late February and five months later, almost to the day, Shea joined her. My grandkids are the great blessing of my life. They prove to me that I have made out much better than I otherwise have deserved to make out.  They are extraordinary. 

Maggie, who is three-and-a-half (already!), her brother Cal, and their first cousin (literally and figuratively) Abigail, are dedicated, fervent believers in the magic of Santa Claus and Christmas.  Cal and Abigail are two-and-a-half.  While Margaret and I did not see the Colorado branch of the family tree in person this Christmas, we did visit with them via the magic of Face Time, which permitted us to see firsthand how excited Abigail was about the Doc McStuffins toys and paraphernalia Santa had left for her under her Christmas tree, which is to say as excited as Maggie was about Santa remembering that she had asked for a Cry Baby Doll and as excited as Cal was about Santa bringing him the dinosaurs for which he had asked.  

My grandchildren are the greatest gift I have ever received and shall ever receive.  This Christmas, in a year when opportunities to be merry and bright were in dangerously low supply, their pure, unadulterated joy was my best present - even better than the new Garmin watch AND the ticket to the 2021 See. Hear. Now Festival on September 18 and 19 in Asbury Park that Santa (a/k/a Margaret) left under my tree. 

Children grow up fast.  Too fast, perhaps.  There shall be a Christmas, far closer on the horizon line than I might want to acknowledge presently, when believing in Santa will be spoken of in the past tense.  Those days are not these days.  These are the days of miracle and wonder.  I shall embrace them and enjoy them for however long they last. 

-AK