The Last Day of Christmas

I admit it. I'm a clinger. Change doesn't bother me. I like new things. But letting go of old ones, that's a different story.
So I cling to Christmas.
I mourn it's passing. Yesterday I watched half a dozen Christmas movies with my family. Today I'll bake a few more cookies (for my New Year's Eve Party--if you're in the Dallas area, stop on by!) and watch one more Christmas movie.
It doesn't feel like Christmas anymore. How can that be? A month of carols and decorations and stories and snap! It's over with the stroke of midnight.
Christmas to me isn't about the day. It's the season. The season of lights and joy and peace. The season that we now use to remember the birth of the greatest King. The season we find holly and jolly.
Today the last of my family leaves. We had a house full o' people. It was great. Air mattresses were brought out. Sofas slept on. Every room filled. We played games and drank wassail and ate more cookies and pie than any human should eat. I discovered that the heavy roasting pan I received as a wedding present and hadn't had an opportunity to use until now is too big for my oven. Dishes broke. Stains remain. But that's okay. I can remember each time I see the stain.
Tomorrow life goes back to normal. Not that normal is bad. I like life (life likes me, life and I fairly fully agree...).
But normal isn't Christmas.
So farewell thee well, Ghost of Christmas past. We lift a cup in your honor.