I finally did it. Bought a cheap, hang on the wall, outdoor thermometer. It’s on a porch pole right outside my kitchen window. This morning the little red column of mercury stands at 10. That is shiver my timbers cold. I know; I went outside to feed the cats and my timbers shivered. It promises to stay cold like this until at least Christmas. Luckily, there is no precipitation because I’m driving to Houston this morning. I’ll wait until the sun comes up as if that will do any good. Sometimes it does.

We’re having our family Christmas this year at the new home of my daughter and her little family. It promises to be a sweet day. My oldest son with his little family will be there. We’re only missing the middle child who is under the weather and staying home to guard the home front. He and I will do Christmas on Christmas day. In the meantime, I’m off to eat, drink, and be merry. Presents will be exchanged. We’ll laugh, tell stories, mourn the missing, make memories. My presents are all packed in a Santa bag for the trip, along with several boxes of old ornaments that my daughter requested because she now has room for them, both to put them up and store them. I’m glad they’re heading to a new home.

I have a feeling that this marks the beginning of a new era centered around the new, young children. We did it to our parents, now it’s being done to me. Basically, it says, come to us for Christmas. And I will come. It seems sort of fitting, given what Christmas is all about. Birth. Bringing gifts to the newborn. I’m all in and ready to travel, presents in hand. I can remember my grandmother making the same trip to see her grandkids and she came by bus. Just thinking about that makes me warm inside and gives me fuel for today’s trip. Wish me well.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale