Last night as we were sitting around my Nan Nan’s house — full, giggly, and oohing and aahing over luxurious candles and fuzzy robes — my uncle said something about how comforting it is that we get to do this every single year. No matter what goes on each year, we have the comfort of knowing we’ll get to do this. To gather, be merry, drink, eat, and shower each other with love. I guess that’s the whole allure of tradition, but I’d never thought of it quite that way. I love, love these people.