I don't know about the rest of you, but I spend a lot of time thinking about my family especially because all but one live distances away. I wonder if we mean as much to them as they do to us.
Well, today (Christmas day) I found out at least from our oldest one that we do. And it didn't come in the form of a gift, but a memory.
When the four children were little and we sent them to bed on Christmas eve you could always hear the whispers coming from their bedrooms. To quiet them, my husband would tap the side of our crystal glasses and say "quiet down" the bell ringers are coming and you have to be quiet or Santa may not come.
After several tappings the four usually fell asleep and the two of us would get to work putting the presents under the tree.
That brings me back to my first sentence. Our oldest daughter sent a Facebook message about the bell ringers and her memories. Tears flowed not only from me but from my so-called hard-hearted husband.
This was the best Christmas gift we could have gotten and it didn't cost a thing.
Memories are forever.