It was a Christmas morning of firsts. This is the only “real” photo I’ve got, but it was one of those mornings I will never forget as long as I live. I ate cinnamon rolls and bacon on the floor. I doled out presents. I danced to Christmas music. I videotaped everyone coming down the stairs. I watched my kids exchange hugs and squeals and laughs. I clung to their joy, desperate to soak it up. I tried to forget the fact that our well pump had died two days before, and I tried to stay positive when we walked outside to find that our Suburban wouldn’t start on Christmas Day. In the midst of what has since been labeled one of the toughest weeks of our lives, we still celebrated. And these kids did it so well. For a few hours, nothing else mattered. I was just honored to be amongst these people.