I hope it's real.

Every December I most look forward to getting Autumn's Christmas card. They are always spectacular. Always. I haven't seen Autumn since her father's memorial service in Pittsburgh in 2005. Prior to that I hadn't seen her since 1990. Autumn is one of my oldest friends, we first met in July 1976, and our families are closely intertwined. Her oldest sister, Heather, was born the same day as my oldest brother. Mama Maureen and Mama Rosie shared a hospital recovery room and hit it off right away, as did the proud new Papas, John and Tom, respectively. Autumn was born about six months before me, then came Sean and finally Miss Molly, who was about a year older than my youngest brother. We all got along so well as kids. Even when they lived in the 'burgh, Boston, and finally Ohio, we always looked forward to seeing them each summer. Autumn and I don't text or write letters or communicate outside of Christmas cards, but the few times I've seen her and spoken with her (she called when my father passed), there was none of that awkwardness that usually comes with long distance friendships. I love her Christmas cards because I know what a truly warm, decent, caring, beautiful person Autumn is. I look at her with her husband and with her kids and see how happy they are. It's like a fairy tale and I always think to myself, "I hope it's real. I hope, hope, hope, that she is really this happy." Autumn so totally deserves it.