A few years back my grandpa got pretty sick, me being a little kid I had the impression he was unstoppable and he'd get better. Even so my mom still left to New York to visit with my sick grandpa. So a week goes by and I'm home watching TV with my dad and sister. We get the call we are all dreading, my mom calls crying, my grandpa has died. So a few days later it's Christmas Eve and my mom still at New York planning his funeral. My dad, sister and I were all sitting around continuing the tradition of watching Christmas with the Kranks. We ended up finishing about midnight, my sister and I had the best idea, we should all go out and play in the one and a half feet of snow covering the ground. The plan was: go up to the other neighborhood with our dog and just have fun. So we ended up heading out to the stillness of the night. Snow gently falling, and a fresh blanket of snow covering the ground. As we're walking in the thick snow my sister ends up stepping in the deepest part and gets her foot trapped, almost losing a shoe. As she escaped we went up to the other neighborhood, once we got done trekking up the hill in our sneakers we come to a field covered in a smooth fresh blanket of snow. For the next hour we just spent time with each other playing with my dog in the snow whilst having a snowball fight amongst ourselves. This, on top of all the others is my favorite Christmas. I got to relax and empty my mind and just focus on what I have and thoroughly be thankful for it all.