A/N: Merry Christmas! The lack of Meredith and Derek holiday fanfics were breaking Irene's (CileSuns92) and my hearts, so we decided to come together (individually) to bring you MerDer holiday fics. Her story will be coming soon, so make sure to keep an eye out for it to get your MerDer holiday fix. Also, thank you, Irene, for proofreading this for me!
Time Frame: Season 10 (I wanted to go back to happier times).
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Santa Claus.
Enjoy!
"You get to learn from her mistakes."
Dr. Wyatt's words reverberate in Meredith Grey's head over and over and over again.
Her research is at a standstill. It's frozen stuck, and apparently going absolutely nowhere anytime soon. Meredith Grey finds herself desperately searching for answers in a pile of her mother's past work. Stacks of notes, scans, images, and documentation of her mother's research on portal veins lie in front of her. Something that can help her must be within these documents.
Sitting in a pile of files on her bed, she looks out the window and watches the wintery mix fall from the blanket of clouds above. December has arrived. She should be baking cookies with her kids and singing Christmas carols. That's what most mothers do. Except she's Meredith Grey, child of Ellis Grey. She doesn't bake, and she doesn't sing Christmas carols. She's a surgeon, just like her mother, and she's expected to be extraordinary.
So she digs through these piles instead, hoping to find the answers to her all her problems.
She grabs hold of a rectangular picture is covered in dust like all the rest. Expecting to find another X-ray image, she wipes the dust from the picture. She blinks repeatedly, soon realizing it's most definitely not an X-ray. In fact, it's nothing medical related.
It's a picture of a little girl. She has straight honey-colored hair and bright blue eyes. A somber expression is on her face. She looks like she's been crying.
She's sitting on a man's lap. He's a man with a big white beard, wearing a red suit with white cotton laced around his sleeves and a big red hat with a fluffy ball on its tip.
Santa Claus.
The little girl in the picture can't be more than three years old.
"Momma!" her near three-year-old daughter's voice interrupts her long train of aimless thoughts. She looks up, Zola runs toward her and prances on the bed. "Whatcha doin'?"
Derek stands in the doorway holding their six-month-old son. He frowns when her gaze meets his. "I know you wanted to work, but I couldn't keep her out," he sighs, looking genuinely guilty.
"It's...it's fine," Meredith smiles gently, wrapping her arm around her little girl, hugging her close, still clinging to the picture of the little girl in her hand.
"Who dat girl?" Zola asks, pointing at the little girl in the photograph in her mother's hand.
Meredith's heart weighs heavily in her chest, her nose crinkles as she glares studiously at the photograph in her hand. Her daughter's bright brown eyes light up with inquisition as she looks at the little girl in the photo.
"What girl?" Derek asks, dubiously eying his wife, shifting their son to his other arm to make room for him to see the photo of the sad, distraught child on Santa's lap.
"Why she sad, Mommy?" Zola asks in innocent voice, causing Meredith's heart to swell fuller. Meredith breathes deeply, holding back the tears she wants to shed. She can't cry. Not in front of Zola. Or Derek or Bailey.
The moment he sees the photo, Derek knows what's going on; she can tell he knows by the sympathetic glimmer that rotates into his eyes, the sense of worry and wonder that fills his face.
"Meredith, where did you find this photo?" he asks curiously, placing his free hand on her shoulder. Meredith sits dazzled on the bed in the pile of papers, surely wrinkling some of her mother's hard-earned work. Her thoughts are aimless, to the point she doesn't stop to care about the status of her mother's documents.
Zola hops on her lap, only causing more papers to fly around. The mess is unsettling, but Meredith doesn't care. Zola snuggles closer to her, leaning her head against her shoulder. It's moments like these that makes Meredith so grateful, so happy, so proud to be able to spend with her children.
They're the moments her own mother never shared with her, but they're the moments she longed for. Had she interrupted her mother while she was working, she would have been yelled at and told to go away. She can't imagine ever doing that to her children.
Zola lightly strokes the photo with her index finger. Meredith still hasn't answered her daughter's questions. There's so much wonder and mysteriousness in Zola's little eyes as she awaits some response from her mother.
Meredith deeply sighs again, fixing her eyes on the photo, and then she looks to Zola and then to Derek and then to Bailey. Her family surrounds her, and her heart is so full. She's more than content with her current life, and she's grateful for all the moments she gets to spend with the family she's created; she could not ask for more.
How can such a photo have such an emotional effect on her?
The photo itself is foreign to her. She's never seen it before, yet there's something important about it. A mysterious feeling lingers, weighing heavily on her chest.
"Meredith…" Derek's voice lowers, concern definitely evident within it.
"It was with her things, Derek. With her work files," Meredith finally replies, her voice is much hoarser than she expected it to be. She shakes her head and pulls Zola closer. "Zola, sweetheart," Meredith swallows, a small tear sheds which she quickly wipes away, "This is Mommy when she was a little girl about your age."
I hate malls. The thought echoes in Meredith's brain, recounting her hatred toward large shopping centers in general, but more specifically, her hatred towards mall areas. She's never liked them, for as long as she can remember, and she can tell that the little girl in the photo also hates them.
Or maybe she was scared of Santa, like many other kids.
That's not it. She knows that's not it. Meredith can't remember ever being scared of Santa Claus. Of course, she's much younger in this photo than she remembers ever being. She knows it's her, though. And she knows she wasn't scared of Santa Claus.
"Mama, that not you! She don't look like you," Zola protests adamantly, sweetly giggling. "Who is it, really, Momma?"
A weak smile curls Meredith's lips as she shares a look with Derek, whose lips have also shaped into a corny, shameless grin. Bailey extends his arms, his eyes focused curiously on his mother and his sister. Meredith grins and adjusts Zola so there's room for Bailey. "Come here, baby boy," she reaches out and takes her son from her husband's arms, then snuggles both of her children closeby, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end.
"Let me see that photo, now," Derek insists, leaning over his family to get a clear cut look of the photo of Meredith. She lets him take the photo from her hand, so he can observe it fully. "Yep, Zo, definitely looks like your momma to me." He gives a compassionate, love-filled smile to both of his girls.
"Nope. Does you know Momma when she little?" Zola asks, still very much unconvinced that the little girl in the photo can't possibly be her mother. Admittedly, Meredith herself isn't entirely convinced. The photo was in her mother's work files, after all. That alone creates reasonable doubt. Though, what other little girl would her mother have a Santa picture of?
Derek gazes strongly at the adult version of the child in the photo and kisses her forehead. "Sadly, I didn't know your momma when she was a little girl, Zola," Derek laments, genuinely sounding regretful.
"How you know?" Zola inquires suspiciously. She's such an inquisitive little girl, and Meredith finds Zola's inquisitive nature endearing. Meredith is so proud of her daughter. She's growing into a chatty, beautiful three-year-old. She's the daughter Meredith could never dream of having.
She's proud of both her children. Her baby rests calmly in her lap, leaning into her bosom, which rises with each breath. He curls his tiny fingers around her index finger. He's growing so fast. It seems just like yesterday he was a newborn. The past six months really have flown by.
Six months of struggling to balance work and being the mother of two children, of battling with Cristina over her 3-D printer, of trying to figure out what direction her research is going to take. The struggles aside, it's been six months of giggles, of laughter, of cute kid moments. Moments she would never trade for anything. Moments she'll cherish and, Alzheimer's permitting, will remember for the rest of her lifetime. They're the moments that count, and she'll never understand how any mother could choose anything over them.
"Momma!" It's boisterous and crowds of people surround her on all sides. She's dressed in her best dress just like children that surround her. Mothers cling to their crying babies. But none of them are her mother. "Momma!" she cries again, sticky tear streaks stain her cheeks. Where is her mother?
"Well, Zola, I know it's your momma because, well, one," Derek says as he gently strokes Meredith's nose, "The girl in the picture has the same nose as your mother." Then he touches Bailey's nose. "The same nose that Bailey has."
"Momma and Bailey don't gots the same nose, Daddy," Zola points out, genuinely confused by her father's comparison. Derek and Meredith both giggle at their daughter's literal response. "If it Momma, why she crwying? You no like Santa, Momma?"
"Momma!" she's still crying, but no response is elicited until she sees her father standing near the Santa line.
"Meredith!" he calls when he sees her. "There you are! I was worried sick. I was looking everywhere for you…"
"Momma gone," she cries. "Where Momma?"
Her father's eye sulk as he extends his arm to take her hand. "Your momma got called into work, sweetie. Let's go see Santa and we'll take a picture to show her later."
"I don't want to see Santa. I want Momma!" She stomps her foot adamantly.
"I was crying because I wanted my mommy," Meredith sighs, not about to lie to her daughter. Her mother had told her plenty of lies. Meredith has no intention of starting an untruthful relationship with her children. They deserve to know the truth, even if it hurts her to tell them it.
"Where was you mommy, Mommy?" Zola asks curiously, only breaking Meredith's heart into more pieces.
"She was at work," explains Meredith, again truthful. Derek frowns sympathetically. She doesn't need sympathy, though. It is what it is. Everyone knows that her mother was a horrible mother. Sometimes Meredith wishes Ellis was around to meet her grandchildren, but then she remembers that it's delusional to think. Ellis would want to be part of her grandchildren's lives. She didn't want any part in her own child's life, so why would she want to be part of Zola's and Bailey's lives?
"Oh," Zola also frowns, picking up on the sadness in both her parents' eyes.
"And I wanted my mommy to meet Santa with me," Meredith adds, and Zola's eyes show signs of lightening.
"Can I meet Santa?" Zola asks, hopefulness in her voice.
Derek's eyes also light up. "That's a great idea, Zola. I think your mommy would love to introduce you to Santa. Wouldn't you, Mere?" His eyes shimmer as he looks at his wife and son.
"I would!" The frown on Meredith's face turns upside down at the mention of taking the children to see Santa Claus. She doesn't know why she hasn't thought of it before. Of course they should see Santa like all the other little children. Her hatred for malls shouldn't hinder them from that childhood opportunity. "Daddy and I would love to take you and your brother to meet Santa Claus."
"Let's check the computer and see what times Santa will be at the Mall." Derek grabs Zola's hand.
"Can I weared my butterfly costume?!" Zola dances excitedly as she takes her father's hand.
Derek laughs, looking back at Meredith, whose face also breaks a smile.
"Zo, how would you like a new outfit to wear to see Santa? You have to dress your best to see Santa," Meredith asks, hoping Zola will be up for that, and the big smile that explodes on her faces says that she is.
"Yay! I gets to dress up. Can Bay get somfing new too?"
Meredith and Derek both nod. "Yes, he will," Meredith answers.
Zola dances with excitement and anticipation.
"Now, you have to make a list of things to tell Santa that you want for Christmas," Meredith hears Derek tell Zola as they start to walk out of the room. Meanwhile, she looks into the bright blue eyes of her baby boy. She stands up, leaving the mess of paperwork on the bed. She'll deal with it later.
"Are you ready to meet Santa, Bails?" she asks Bailey, carrying him out of the room after her husband and daughter.
"Kapooooopa!" Bailey babbles as a response. She doesn't need to translate his response, her nose gives her that answer.
Before they embark on their Santa visit adventure, someone needs a diaper change.
The Christmas music harmonies fill her ears from the mall entrance doors. For the first time, in as long as she can remember, the melodies don't disgust her. Her heart arms as she holds onto her daughter's hand, sharing a heartfelt look with her husband who carries a still-bundled Bailey in his arms.
"What store, Mama?!" A very excited Zola exclaims. She dances with elation, and it makes Meredith so happy to see her little girl this excited. Even Derek looks excited, and she knows he's not a big fan of the mall, either. Something about this mall trip feels magical, though, and they can both delight in this precious magic with their children.
Meredith looks at the mall map and sees they're not far from JCPenney. A department store will surely be their one stop shop, she hopes. "Let's go to JCPenney," Meredith says. Derek nods in agreement.
"Who Penney?" Zola inquires as they head past other small stores that Meredith has never heard of. There's a kitchen shop and a jewelry store. The store themes alone tell her why she's never heard of them, and she doesn't care to know about them. She spots Derek looking in the jewelry store, though. She hopes he isn't getting any ideas.
"Penney is a very rich lady," Derek explains, smiling at Meredith.
"And she makes pretty clothes," Meredith nods.
"Like an elf?" Zola asks, looking perplexed.
"Exactly like an elf," Derek replies.
"Santa like her clothes?"
"Santa loves her clothes," Meredith assures her daughter, then releases a sigh. Zola is too young to be worrying about if others will like what she's wearing.
They go straight to the zero to three section, and immediately an outfit catches Zola's eye. It's a red Santa suit. On the same rack is a green elf suit.
"Bails and I be Santa's elves!" Zola announces with glee.
Meredith examines the outfits for Bailey's and Zola's sizes, finding Bailey's size right away, but both the Santa and elf suits are too small for her big girl. When she tells Zola that there aren't any in her size, she stomps her foot.
"I wanna be an elf too!" Zola cries, crossing her arms tightly and sticking her lip out.
"Shhh, Zola," Derek whispers. Meredith's face flushes as she spots complete strangers staring at her. Now, she's that parent. "I'll ask if they have some in the back in your size, Zozo."
That calms Zola down, the tears that started to gush from her eyes stop and she breathes calmer. Meredith takes Zola's hand, hoping that they'll have some in back.
They don't, though. Again, Zola is in tears. The store manager tells them that they can order an outfit online and it'll be here in one to two weeks. Zola is insistent that she needs it now, because she's going to see Santa today and she needs to be an elf for him.
Derek hands Bailey to Meredith, who is also restless now that his sister is upset. Meredith soothes her son as Derek gently kneels to Zola's level.
"Zola, why don't we look at some other outfits? There are lots of pretty dresses here, and I hear Santa loves dresses," Derek speaks calmly and collectively, but Zola is inconsolable.
"I wanna be an elf," Zola pouts, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Why can't I be an elf?"
"They don't have the outfit in your size, sweetie," Meredith tells Zola.
"But it not fair. They gots Bay's size," Zola protests. Meredith's heart breaks for her. They came to the mall so the kids could meet Santa. It was supposed to be an enjoyable trip, it was supposed to be magical. Now, little Zola's heart is crushed because she can't be an elf, and there's nothing she can do about it.
"Maybe we can try a different store," Derek suggests, lingering hopefulness in his eyes.
"No," Zola says adamantly. "I want Penney's. Santa like Penney's."
"Santa likes other stores, too," Meredith tells Zola.
"Not as much as Penney," Zola pouts.
Meredith and Derek both search for answers in each other's eyes. Zola is stubborn and isn't budging. They have to do something.
"Zola, you know it's Christmas time, and Santa is watching, right?" Derek asks his daughter. "You know the song better not cry, better not pout, I'm tellin' you why…" He sings the lyrics to the Christmas tune that Meredith always hated as a child, because she'd figured out at a very young age that Santa wasn't real. As a young child, she knew that it was just a ploy to get children to behave. She'd thought it was foolish. She'd thought the whole concept of Santa Claus was silly.
Now, as an adult, she wants nothing more than for her children to believe in Santa Claus for as long as they can. Nothing compares to the glimmer of childhood hope and innocence. All children deserve to have hope to hold onto, and Santa gives them that. He gives them hope and wonder. Zola should believe him in. There's no harm in believing in Santa. Meredith realizes that now. She only wishes that she'd had the opportunity, too.
"'Cause Santa Claus is coming to town?" Zola finishes the lyrics, wiping a little tear from her eye.
"Exactly," Derek says softly. "You have to stop crying, because otherwise you know what Santa brings?" A smirk crosses his face as he looks up at Meredith. She remembers her daddy trying to tell her this, and the precocious child that she was didn't fall for it.
"Meredith, you have to stop crying. Otherwise Santa is going to bring you coal!" Her father desperately tells her. Tears stain her cheeks. All she wants is her mommy. Why can't she have her mommy?
"NO! she yells at her father. "Santa not real! Santa not real!"
She couldn't have been much older than three or four. She's not exactly sure. Childhood memories blend together, so it's hard to pinpoint exactly where that memory comes from. It could have been that day in the mall, or it could have been another time. She'll never know for sure.
"Oh no!" Zola looks frightened, like she should. "What coal?"
"Coal is black and smelly," Meredith shakes her head glumly.
"Like poop?"
Meredith and Derek share a laugh.
"Exactly like poop. Trust me, Zola, you don't want coal for Christmas," Derek says.
Zola wipes the sticky tears from her face in entirety with her glove and she stops. "I no cry no more," Zola announces. She swallows the moisture in her mouth and her breathing evens out. "I want dress."
"Let's pick you out a pretty one." Derek takes his daughter's hand, and they begin examining the dresses for the perfect dress for Zola to wear to see Santa Claus.
And they find the perfect dress, a silver dress with glittered sparkles. Zola is elated when she sees it, and she looks like a princess in it.
"I a princess!" Zola sings over and over, as they purchase the dress with her still in it. They also dress Bailey in his elf costume and purchase it. Zola picks out a pair of matching silver sparkle shoes that go with her dress. She and her brother are ready to see Santa Claus.
"Where is Santa?" Zola asks as they leave JCPenney. The flocks of people headed in the same direction give answer to Zola's question. Also, the large fake Christmas trees are clear indicators of where Santa is located.
"He's hiding behind all those people," Meredith explains to her daughter.
"I don't see him," Zola answers, sounding disappointed.
"You have to wait your turn, Zola. Other little girls and boys were here first," Derek tells Zola.
They get in the line to see Santa Claus, still too far back to actually see the man wearing the Santa costume. "See the big trees?" Meredith points ahead for Zola.
"Uh-huh," Zola nods.
"Santa Claus is behind them," Meredith tells her daughter. At that same time, her phone buzzes in her pocket. Crap, she thinks. She feels sick when she sticks her hand into her pocket, dreading the message that she may have received.
"Momma! Where's Momma? I need Momma."
"She had to go to work, Meredith."
She'd heard it too many times. She can't. She won't.
No.
Her heart sinks into her stomach when her worst fears are confirmed. There's been another car crash. Car crashes pop up in the ER left and right during the winter seasons. Department store workers aren't the only ones whose busiest time of year is the Christmas season. With Christmas shopping, comes more people on the road. Add ice into the mix, and you have a recipe for disaster.
Her gut twists. She feels sick holding onto her son for dear life, not wanting to let him go. She can't go. Not now, not before Zola and Bailey have met Santa Claus.
"Daddy, I need Momma!" The little girl is crying. A massive lump coils in her throat, she can't breathe, she can't think.
"Meredith, is everything okay?" Derek asks, noticing his wife's sudden bleakness.
Meredith shakes her head. "It's the hospital," she mouths hoarsely.
"You got paged?"
"I can't go, Derek...I can't…"
"It's okay, I can take the kids," Derek assures her.
"No, it's not okay. I can't go. I will not be Ellis Grey, Derek," Meredith responds in a low whisper.
"Meredith, nobody's saying…"
"You don't get it, Derek," she whispers. "The picture we found today of me and Santa? I wasn't crying because I was scared of Santa. I was crying because just before I'd got on Santa's lap, my mother was paged. I wanted my mom, and my dad couldn't console me. She was there, and then she was just gone…"
"Meredith, God…" Derek's crisp blue eyes twinkle sadly. "I'm sorry."
"It's what it is, but my mother was never around during the Christmas season. It's the busiest time of year at the hospital, so I understand why now, but all I wanted was my mother...and she wasn't there. I was with Thatcher, and then after he was gone, I spent Christmas with a nanny."
"So that's why you're against having a nanny…"
She nods glumly, knowing it's the truth. She was raised by nannies, and she won't have that for her children.
"Maybe Bailey or Richard can cover for you," suggests Derek.
Meredith sighs. "Maybe. They live at the hospital already. Chances are they're already there and there's a general surgeon shortage. I can't just not go in, can I?" Her heart whelms with pain, knowing she has a decision to make, but it's not a difficult one.
"Meredith, it's your choice. This is one choice you get to make on your own," Derek tells her warmly. Meredith eyes each of her children respectively and knows the choice she has to make.
She calls Richard and explains her situation, knowing he'll understand her situation more than anyone. To her relief, he tells her not to worry. He has her covered.
A weight lifts off her chest, and she doesn't feel the slightest bit guilt with her choice. It's the right choice, and she knows it. Just this one time.
The wait is grueling, but at last, it's Zola and Bailey's turn to see Santa Claus, a moment that they'll cherish for a lifetime.
Zola's hyperness immediately transforms into timidity. The dancing, smiling, eager little girl seems to have vanished, replaced by a reserved, quiet, and shy version of her daughter, a version that Meredith doesn't recognize.
"Well, hello, Zola," Santa says to her. They had given Santa's helpers the kids' information, so Santa knew all about Zola and Bailey before their visit with him.
Zola hides behind her mommy and daddy; her eyes widen when Santa speaks her name, though. "How he know my name, Daddy?" she whispers to Derek.
"Why, Zola, I'm Santa. I know all the little boys' and girls' names," Santa answers before Derek can respond. He smiles joyously to Bailey. "And this little guy must be Bailey."
Bailey sucks on his thumb as his big blue eyes meet Santa's.
"Want to meet Santa Claus, Bails?" Meredith softly asks her son while she prepares to set him on Santa's lap. Santa takes Bailey from her arms and positions him on his lap, though almost instantly Bailey begins to squirm and cry. The poor boy is frightened of the stranger's lap.
"Zola, why don't you show your baby brother that Santa isn't scary?" Meredith suggests to her daughter, who nods timidly, and she slowly approaches the big man in the red suit. Derek lifts the little girl up to Santa's lap. Just like that, Bailey stops crying and settles. His eyes fixate on his older sister, who sits across from him on Santa's other leg.
Meredith and Derek both breathe sighs of relief.
"What do you want for Christmas, Miss Zola?" Santa asks, and a small smile lights up Zola's face.
"I dunno," Zola says sweetly, peering at both of her parents.
"You don't know? Are you sure about that?" Santa asks the little girl, who then giggles.
"I wants both my mommy and daddy," Zola says in the most adorable, sweet voice anyone can imagine, making Meredith's heart warm as she grabs hold of Derek's hand. Derek's face also lights up with an enormous smile.
"Zola, I can't bring you your mommy and daddy. They're here already. What do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Santa asks in a patient voice.
"A pony! And a Sofia the First dolly 'cause my bestest friend's name is Sofia, and I wove Sofia the First," Zola finally gives Santa the answers he's looking for. "Oh, and a puppy! Can I have a puppy? And a baby sister 'cause baby brodders are icky." Zola points at Bailey, whose slobber covers his entire hand now.
Santa lets out a jolly laugh, looking at Meredith and Derek. "Well, I don't know if Santa can bring you that. That's kind of up to your mommy and daddy."
Meredith feels her cheeks warming, and Derek is laughing beside her. She can't believe Zola actually asked for a baby sister. She doesn't know what to think about the puppy, either. Admittedly, she's thought about it, but losing Doc had been so hard, and her and Derek's schedules are so sporadic.
"Anything else?" Santa asks Zola.
"Nope! That it," Zola proclaims.
"Now, have you been a good little girl this year?"
"Yes! I no cwy or pout or anything," Zola declares, looking innocently at both her parents, who merely smile in return, both recalling the little tantrum in JCPenney not very long ago.
Santa is also looking at Meredith and Derek now with a knowing smirk on his face.
"Shall we take a picture?" Santa asks, and Meredith and Derek both nod.
"Can Mommy be in the picture too?" Zola asks in a sweet, angelic voice.
"Zola, Mommy's too big for Santa's lap. You and Bailey take up his entire lap," Meredith replies, dubiously studying her little boy and little girl, each sitting on one of Santa's legs.
"I want Mommy!" she cries, squirming and wiggling on Santa's lap, demanding that Santa bring her mother to her right now. She doesn't want to look at the camera and smile unless her mother is there too. She won't. No one can make her.
Meredith swallows a lump in her throat when Zola sticks out lip out. "Pwease."
"There's not room on my lap, but I think there's room in my chair if I move over just a little this way," Santa suggests, repositioning himself so there's a space designed just for Meredith to sit in. Meredith finds herself smiling widely as she walks toward Santa and her children, finding it hard to believe that she's going to sit next to Santa Claus after all these years. She doesn't care. She'll do anything for her children.
"What about Daddy?" Derek asks, frowning, hints of jealousy lingering within his eyes.
"You too big. There no room," Zola declares adamantly, but Santa smiles, again having another suggestion in mind.
"What if Daddy kneels beside us?" Santa suggests. Zola agrees, and Derek obliges. A family photo is snapped, one that will hang proudly in the Shepherd-Grey living room for many years to come, a photo that everyone who visits the house will see even after the children have moved out and have started their own families. It's a moment that will never be forgotten.
Life is full of unforeseen and uncontrollable moments, like when another driver crashes their car into your passenger door. You can't foresee something like that happening. You can, however, choose to be present for the little moments. They're the ones that count the most. There are some moments in life that just cannot be missed.
As it turns out after all, her mother had indeed left her all the answers she needs.
Happy Holidays.