One day last week as I drove Shannon to her friend’s house where she gets a ride to school, she was in a rare pout because I had said “no” to a New Year’s party at our house.

As she got out of the car, I called out, as I usually do: “Love you. Have a good day.”

She muttered “Bye,” and closed the door.

As I drove away, I pulled my cell phone from my purse, knowing it would ring soon.

Seconds later, before I had driven out of the subdivision, it did. It was Shannon, telling me she loved me, too.

I had known she would call because, in our family, we find it almost impossible to leave without “I love yous,” even if we are angry or tired or irritable.

Shannon has been that way since she was tiny, probably because she had to deal with loss early and because her family circle is so small.

We all know not to take anything for granted, and never to leave – even for a little while – without letting those you love know it.

The family in our house has consisted of just Shannon and me since her father died when she was 2. My mother died a few years before she was born, so Shannon is especially close to my dad. Her Nanna, her caregiver since she was two months, is not a blood relative, but she’s family now. And, with the addition of my brother in Huntsville, this forms our family in this area.

I can’t remember a time when Shannon hung up the phone without telling any of us she loves us.

It’s not that we spend our days thinking something tragic will happen to one of our family. How morbid and crippling that would be.

But because of our losses, something indefinable floats in our hearts and minds that reminds us daily that these people are what matter in our lives.

If I argued with someone at work one day, if Shannon did poorly on a test at school, that “something” floats to the surface and reminds us of what is important.

While that feeling is still mingled with mourning for those we lost, it somehow fills us with an incredible gratitude and hope for our future.

Many people remember at this time of year how lucky they are to have wonderful people in their lives.

We know it each and every day.

I know we have been given this gift and I am grateful.

When I write stories about the senseless death of a young man with a bright future, or about the miraculous birth of a baby against all odds, I hope others realize how important it is to never leave without “I love yous.”

No matter how much our losses weigh on us, or how bad our circumstances seem, when we look around us at our families, hope and gratitude float to the top.

And that feeling, to me, is Christmas every day.