There's the cookies and cakes and wrapped presents that seem to grow from underneath the tree. There's laughing and joking and cuddling on the couch to watch "It's a Wonderful Life." And there's stockings full of candy and Christmas music and that smell of gingerbread that always seems to flood my mom's house around this time of year, even though I've never seen her make gingerbread cookies.
This year, there was none of that. There were no kids giggling, no Christmas Eve celebration at my Oma's, no early morning presents at my mom's, no teasing from my Mama about how my deviled eggs were too salty.
I didn't have high hopes, to tell you the truth. I knew the first Christmas Brent and I spent together would be special, but not having family there too definitely put a damper on things early on.
It's funny how God has a way of shining light on you though. Just when I thought Christmas wouldn't be the same, he showed me that it's OK for things to change.
Brent and I opened up presents on Christmas Eve, and played Yahtzee with a couple of friends. I baked chocolate chip pie (my mom's recipe) and we planned to eat with Brent's boss's family the next day -- along with anyone else who wandered that way.
The next morning, we got up early and headed over there. We thought dinner was at noon, but it turned out that's just when they were going to start cooking. People weren't expected to show up for a few more hours, so we dropped off our food and decided to waste time by driving around the south side of the island, which we hadn't done yet.
It was beautiful.
The waves were unusually high, and they crashed against the rocks and cliffs and anything else that made its home on the shoreline. There was one part -- near Umatac -- that was especially gorgeous.
Across from a small Catholic church a few miles from Cocos Island ferry stop was one of the most beautiful views I've seen on the island. There was an old white cross, and someone had draped a beaded shell necklace around the top.
We got out of the car, hugged each other, and did that sappy eye-to-eye look that couples in love do. And I realize that it doesn't matter much that my family isn't here on Guam. They will always be with me. And Brent is my family too now.
After our drive, we made it back to Brent's boss's house just when everyone started pulling up. There were a good 20-25 people there when it was all said and done. And all of us ate roast pig, chocolate pie and everything in between. We played Dirty Santa, threw a football in the front yard and settled in for a 2-hour, intense game of Catch Phrase.
I laughed so hard I almost cried.
In between laughs I realized that family doesn't have to be close to be with you. And they don't always have to be related to make you feel at home. Thank God for that.
Merry Christmas, from 7,500 miles away.
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