Every Christmas Day, my small family would dress up and drive the five minutes over Herndon Avenue and through the holiday traffic to my grandparents' house for dinner. The cold winter air always smelled of firewood and Christmas dinner as we hurried up the front walkway. As we rang the doorbell, its chimes attracted the insatiable barking of my grandmother's schnauzer. When the door finally opened, my grandfather always appeared with a smile of good cheer, and a shush to the dog.

Their house was always warm, and our small family of eight fit in cozily among the holiday decor. My grandmother was the epitome of sophistication and grace, a true Southern belle. Visiting her was almost like visiting with the Queen of England, she was regal, yet always there for a good hug.

My grandfather, in staying with courtly imagery, was the leader of the revels for the night. He was always jovial and there for a good laugh. He led us through the traditional Price family grace, joyously announced each course of dinner, and released us to the living room for gift giving once the wine and food were gone.

Every year a 'Santa Claus' was named to hand out the gifts to everyone in order of eldest to youngest. This coveted role rotated between my two cousins and myself each Christmas season. By the time gift giving was finished, grandpa was woken up from his rocking chair nap, and dessert was served. At the end of the night, everyone would pack up their gifts and carry the bundles to their cars, driving home through the fog where only the Christmas lights from roadside houses could be seen. That's how it always was, and it was perfect.

But then, things changed.

My grandmother died about four years ago, and my aunt moved away. My eldest cousin started his own little family, and my other cousin is now joining the navy. Christmases became more and more empty with each passing year. The location of our festivities moved to my house, rather than my grandparents', and our holiday party grew and shrank with each passing year. Attempts to recapture the holiday connectivity we once had has been a struggle.

Losing those we love is something we can all relate to, and around the holidays we can feel their absence even more. New traditions, however, have begun to take root to help us through the holidays and bring back the good cheer. With new members of our family, new dishes, new stories, and new wine, we're rebuilding our merry Christmases with those of us here together, and I know that my grandmother and her little schnauzer are up in heaven looking down on us all and she's smiling.

Happy Holidays, and a happy New Year to all the families out there.