White Christmas

Three months after I was last in Belgium, I came back to celebrate Christmas. My first Christmas with my family since 1983. Lauren's and Emlyn's first Christmas in Belgian, ever. And their wish for a White Christmas came true. So much, though, that their flight, which was right behind mine, was rerouted. While I was waiting forever to retrieve my luggage, I received a text from Lauren that they were stuck in London. Airports closed. Too much snow and not enough resources to deal with the logistics. So instead of being greeted by their family to celebrate their highly anticipated first Belgian Christmas, they were trying to figure out how to get off that damn island. No planes. Not one available spot on any of the trains crossing the Chunnel. Nothing. I was crushed. Thoughts of them sleeping on a crowded airport floor on Christmas eve kept me from really taking in the reunion with my family during our first meal around the large round table. Tomato soup with tiny meat balls. Usually my favorite. Then Lauren called to say she was able to get the airline to pay for a hotel and some meals. They are supposed to get out at 8 tomorrow morning. Back to the snow. There is lots of it. Word is they have not seen this much snow in 40 years. The wheels on my luggage were useless. Lots of cars stuck in the snow everywhere. I took some photos around the house. Snow is beautiful. Snow is fun. But sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.