Last night we had dinner with dear friends, one of whom dosed me with his magic potion of apple cider vinegar and honey for my cold. I think it's working. I awoke still feeling a little achy but my head felt almost clear. We all got dressed and went Christmas caroling at church. My husband wore a tie my dad had once given him from his own collection. I know he wore it for me. I loved seeing him rooted and professorial at the end of our row, singing the carols, reading the lesson, our spiritual center. Some of the carols made me teary. It wasn't sadness, just a rich nostalgic remembering those long ago Christmases when both my parents were here, and cousins and aunts and uncles were all around. I watched my son during the service showing his friend where we were in the program and explaining some of the rituals. I thought again that my boy knows instinctively how to be a friend. After church, we had brunch at our favorite restaurant, and then went Christmas shopping. The men went off in one direction and my daughter and I in the other and there was much texting subterfuge between the two groups as we crisscrossed the city, trying not to run into each other as we visited many of the same stores. Now we're back home, gifts stashed, everybody exhausted, my husband watching the Giants game, the kids intermittently napping. Later, we will wrap gifts and watch a movie and tomorrow my kids will still be here and I don't have to go to work. It is a fairly perfect Sunday.