This year, for Christmas, Hubs and I went home to Massachusetts. We live in Virginia now, and consider it to be home, but we’re both from the good ol’ state of Mass and when you talk about going home it’s often about where you came from… I digress.
We started making the plan to go home around Thanksgiving, and didn’t tell anyone but my mom. I wanted it to be a surprise for my dad and everyone else. Although, we ended up telling my brother and Hubs’ family so we could make plans on where to be on what days. With other relatives coming from out of town, we wanted to see everyone… including the new baby, Leona.
Aside from nearly being stranded in what my mother calls “nothing snow” which just so happened to be an actual BLIZZARD in Boston, we got to spend time with just about everyone, which was great. We exchanged gifts, went to breakfast and really spent some nice quality time. We didn’t get to see everyone, which would have been nice, but overall I think we did well.
So, the whole trip was supposed to be a surprise for my dad, with a ton of extras thrown in. I even went so far as to call my dad that morning to tell him we were off to the beach with the dog, going to church, etc, to throw him off the scent. Yup, he was thrown.
Dad’s response? “You jerk!” which was possibly directed at my brother who had insisted he come downstairs to answer the phone. Maybe it was at me for tricking him. But he was pleased we were there.
It was nice to be home. I know it won’t always happen that way, but it was good this time.