I was single for 20 years. When I met the man I would marry in September 2008, I didn’t have any expectations about a long-term relationship. I had no idea I would be spending Christmas with him, much less the rest of my life.
I had family before I met him, and we always celebrated the holidays together. But after opening the gifts Christmas morning, they all drifted to their in-laws’ houses. I spent a lot of Christmas afternoons curled up with a book and my dog.
But that fall, there was a tall, handsome man in the donut line at my church. As we began to blend our lives, we had to figure out which traditions to keep, which we could let slide, and which new ones we could make
I have always loved making Christmas gifts. I’ve made family calendars and scrap books and photo collages. It takes more time than shopping, and I usually end up spending more money than if I had just bought something. But making a gift feels precious, like I’m giving a little bit of me wrapped up in sparkly paper.
And getting a homemade gift amazes me. Somebody sacrificed his time to make this for me.
For our first Christmas together, my husband drew me a picture of our dog, my precious, four-legged, fuzzy child.
He knows I don’t need or even want expensive presents. He knows that all I want for Christmas is more of him. And with that hand-drawn picture, that’s what I got.
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