Christmas Eve mass, the chili dinner, the anticipation of tearing into those gifts that were sitting under the freshly cut pine tree. The sleepless nights awaiting Santa's arrival.
Philip Rivers waving good-bye to the Broncos, the makeshift Christmas with the never ending ham, and a night of excitement in a North Hollywood bar.
These are only a few among many.
Today, that childhood wonderment and excitement is as ever present as it was when I was eight years old.
No particular reason, mind you. Perhaps it is an eternal optimism that I will always carry with me.
This is not only the season of miracles, but a season to spread joy, kindness, and love.
We may do that with gifts. We may do that with donations. We may do that with a simple phone call.
Tell a loved one how you feel. Say hi to a stranger. Buy a beer for a friend.
This year has been a year of peaks and valley. I have enjoyed the peaks and embraced the valle…