Yesterday was the last day of Christmas.  We kept the lights on for one last night.

One Christmas Eve years ago after the kids went to bed I sat up a model train around the perimeter of the tree.  One of my girls woke up around 3 AM, went out, and ran the train around and around for an hour or so before she went back to bed.  If you ask her, that is one of her most magical Christmas memories.  The dark, quiet night.  The lights on the tree.  The train going round and round.

There is a feeling somehow that the train is going somewhere.  What if, after it went around enough times, the air changed and the room opened up and there was another space there where your whole family living and gone were waiting for you?  It feels like there is a barrier that can somehow be broken through.

Christmas is like that.  We are on repeat from year to year, but not just on repeat.  We are headed somewhere.