roses

"Cause with my family, we know where home is. So instead of bringing flowers, we the roses."

There they were. Betsy, Darlene, and Little Ann. Betsy was the oldest. And she had always been the busiest. Today she was in her usual pattern of directing then doing. She would literally go tell you to stir the cake batter and then 30 seconds later come take the bowl right out of your hand and stir it herself.

Darlene was the middle child yet somehow had managed to be the star of the family. She was always certain to be the center of attention. Today she was talking endlessly about the tiff she'd had at the grocery store last week with one of the stock boys. And as usual was busy making herself look busy, but not really doing much.

Little Ann was the youngest, hence the "Little". She was a quiet, gentle soul. She never complained and always smiled, an amazing feat with these sisters. Today she was vigorously peeling potatoes and patiently nodding to Darlene's long-winded tale.

My aunts. My dad's sisters. He had been the oldest of all, and he often talked about how he had helped raise them all after their father died. Dad was only 15 years old. Me and Dad were kind of alike in that sense. Except my mom left us when I was 13. Today he sat in the living room with the aunts' husbands, watching some predictable old movie. Probably Shaft or something Pam Grier related.

And there were more. There were cousins and baby cousins out in the backyard and all through the house. My little brother had just called to tell me when his bus arrived. I came in with my arms full for my aunts. Needed items from the grocery store that I had to stop at before driving my rental car to the house.

Today everything seemed normal. We were all in our usual patterns. But everything was about to change because Little Ann's husband had been diagnosed with a terminal cancer. His first treatment was tomorrow and we knew they both needed us.

have yourself a merry little christmas

"Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow. But 'til then we'll have to muddle through somehow."

Rose wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in the car. It had probably been a while, judging the amount of snow that had accumulated on the windshield. It was that obstruction to her view that finally drew her out of her daze. Here she was. Home for Christmas for the first time in four years.

And amazingly the house looked the same. Too many lights outside. The same single reindeer lit up in the front yard. A tall tree showcased through the front windows. A big wreath with a bright red bow on the front door. The same as the last time she was here. The same as every Christmas she could remember. The sight of it had been so overwhelming that she had paused after parking her car to take it all in.

Rose could imagine her mother and big sisters in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Her brothers watching football. Her dad pretending to help out by cleaning up, but really just watching football. But she knew it wouldn't really be the same. Her eldest sister Lily was married now, and had a two-year old son. Her other sister Violet had just been laid off. Her big brother Jeremy was engaged and her little brother James was a junior in college. She had missed their lives, and they wouldn't be the same as this house. There were new faces in there, new dynamics she wasn't a part of.

Rose stared in disbelief. How could she have been so stupid, so wrong for four years. All those times that she had volunteered to work Christmas at the hospital so that the people with families could go home. She had sacrificed for colleagues' families but never for her own. Rose became even more ashamed thinking of how her attendee had practically forced her to go home.

Here she was. Home for Christmas for the first time in four years. She was joyful. She was in need of the break. She longed to reconnect with her family. And she was afraid of the unknowns that waited inside. But mostly she was tired of being lonely and was ready to get out of that car.

home

"I don't regret this life chose for me. But these places and these faces are getting old."

The last three months had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Anderson was convinced his recent success was based more on luck than actual talent. But he was dedicated to earning the generous promotion the magazine had given him.

Six months ago, Anderson was a photography intern at the nation's top geographic magazine. He traveled to China with his supervisor, and had quietly taken pictures of China's most beautiful landscapes at sunrise. He was shocked when the magazine chose to publish his photos over the supervisor. And even more surprised when he was promoted to staff photographer four weeks ago.

Anderson was traveling the world. He photographed fields of green. Snow-capped mountains. Majestic forests. Endless deserts. It was really quite a ride. A constant vacation.

But Anderson had become nostalgic. He missed the summer fun of baseball and bbqs. He missed driving, grabbing a movie or lunch with friends. It was almost funny because he had heard the staff talk about these same things that he was feeling. The nostalgia, the loneliness. And it had always seemed utterly bizarre to him. How could anyone not enjoy such a free and grand lifestyle.

Yet here he was, longing for a vacation from sunny beaches, gentle ski slopes, and natural wonders.