Its Christmas Eve and no one is in the spirit.

Jude, Quinn, the twins, and I are all watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, a holiday classic. Mom went to do some last minute shopping with Joey and Logan for tomorrow's turkey dinner. It's quiet, something unusual for this house. I yawn, covering my open mouth and sip the chocolate milk in my hand.

I stare at the tree in the corner of the living room, decorated in multi-coloured ornaments. Some are boughten but most are homemade. The only presents under the tree right now is the ones we give to each other. We have to keep an eye on Joey, because he likes to snoop. Yesterday I caught him shaking a present, a picking at the paper.

If it was a normal Christmas, we'd all be surrounding the television watching a movie, eating sugar cookies shaped like trees and snowmen with sprinkles and hot coco. When everyone went to bed, our parents would set out presents.

"Okay," Dad says, entering the living room. He holds a box, setting it down beside the television. He faces us, hands on his hips. ""I know this is a hard time for all of us, but instead of grieving, we should remember Tyler. Remember how happy he was, how aloof he was."

"What are you talking about Dad?" Jude asks.

Dad smiles and reaches into the box he just sat down. He pulls out a clear case with a disk in it. "You're mom had all of the film developed and transferred onto disks," he says, referring to the homemade videos our mom used to take during all kinds of events such as birthdays and sports events to Christmas and summer trips, capturing moments she said she never wanted to forget.

I forgot about them until now.

He puts one of the cd's into the playstation.

"Wait," I say, waving my hands. "I don't know about this Dad."

I didn't know if I can handle the content of the videos. Tyler will be in some of them. And seeing his face, his toothy smile, will be difficult. Beside me, Quinn is looking at his hands.

Dads face softens. "If its too much, I promise, we will shut it off," he says, looking around the room for any one who objects to this idea.

After a moment, I nod. He pushes play.

The screen fills with Jude's face.

"Is it on?" my mom asks, sighing. "The red light is supposed to be on."

Jude rolls his eyes and nods. "Yes mom, the camera is on," he says and pushing the camera out of his face.

"Thanks honey," she says, the camera zooming in on the beach, near summer cabins we'd go to for summer vacations. She zooms in on Owen and Logan throwing sand at Quinn and Tyler. Tyler's wearing black shorts, his brown hair askew in the wind.

"Boys!" she yells, her tone stern. "Stop that! Someone is going to get sand in their eye!" The four of them stop, turning to look at mom. Logan drops the sand in his hands, glaring at Tyler.

Tyler smiles. "Don't worry mom," he says, rolling his eyes. "We're just joking around!"

"If all fun and games until someone gets hurt Tyler," Dad says behind the camera, which swivels to find him. He's sitting in the sand, playing with three year old Joey. He points to the camera, trying to get Joey to wave.

"Joey, wave to the camera! Say hi!" Joey shakes his head, ignoring dad and going back to the sand.

"I think we've all forgotten how quiet and peaceful Joey used to be," Aidan say, laughing. Everyone joins him, breaking the tension in the room.

The camera moves and it shows fourteen year old me and Andrea playing volley ball against Ben and Aidan with a mobile net. The camera moves with the ball until Andrea spikes the ball over the net. Ben launches himself to dump the ball but misses, and the ball lands in the sand.

We cheer, mom joining in and the boys stick out their tongues like childish five year olds.

"Good job girls, show them how its done," she shouts, earning a glare from the boys. She only laughs, and the screen turns black.

"I miss it when mom used to video tape everything," Jude says.

"She always said she wanted something to look back on when you all were out of the house," my dad say, clicking on the remote. "Are we all ready for the next?"

I nod, hesitantly. It wasn't that bad and nice to see what mom recorded.

"Okay," he says, pushing the play button.

The screen fills with red and seconds later, the camera zooms out to a red curtained stage. It swivels around showing members of the audience, before landing on Moms face. She's smiling.

"Okay, we're at Tyler and Quinn's talent show," she says, her voice a quiet whisper. Someone laughs beside her, and she positions the camera to them. Its me.

"Do you think Quinn will puke in front of everyone," I say, smirking.

She nudges my arm, laughing.

"Don't say that," she says, putting the camera back onto the stage. In the background there are voices, Owen and I, placing a bet if Quinn will be sick to his stomach on stage.

I forgot that tough, outspoken Quinn used to have stage fright.

Quinn gives Owen and I an ugly glare but I ignore it, watching the television.

On stage, a teacher walks out with a microphone in hand.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" She begins. "I would like to thank all of you for coming out today to support the baseball clubs talent show to support the boys and girls on their trip to Ottawa. First, we have Lauren and Scott, who are going to do a magic show!"

The two teens come out, both of them in wizards capes and hats with wands. Their skit is cute and the audience laughs along with them.

"Very magical!" The teachers says, her voice too loud in the microphone. There's a loud shrieking feedback and the audience groans. "Ouch, sorry for that. Next, we have Quinn and Tyler doing a duet."

The teacher walks off the stage and the curtain opens, revealing Quinn and Tyler. Quinn is on the key board and Tyler stands a few feet away in front of a microphone. The camera zooms in on their faces before zooming out again.

Tyler glances over at Quinn, who is pale in the face. He nods, signalling Quinn to start playing and raises he mic to his mouth.

"Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain," his voice belts out, clear and in harmony with Quinn. The crowd awes. He continues, smiling and taping his foot.

I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days

She told me in the morning she don't feel the same about us in her bones

Seems to me that when I die these words will be written on my stone

And I'll be gone, gone tonight

The ground beneath my feet is open wide

The way that I been holding on too tight

With nothing in between

The story of my life

I take her home

I drive all night

To keep her warm

And time is frozen (the story of, the story of)

The story of my life

I give her hope

I spend her love

Until she's broke

Inside

The story of my life

He finishes and the camera shuts off, Mom standing to clap and cheer. I remember that later, after the show, we went backstage to congratulate Quinn and Tyler and then out to supper. After that night, Tyler never gave up singing. He sang everywhere. In the car, the shower, the kitchen while eating breakfast.

Tears run down my cheeks and I wipe them away before any one can see.

"I miss his voice."

I turn and see that Mom stands behind me, tears in her own eyes. Joey and Logan are standing behind us too. They aren't sad tears. Not happy either, but more like something in between, because she smiled too.

"James, why don't you put another video in," she says, taking off her jacket. She turns to Joey. "Come here, sweetheart. Let's watch some home videos before bedtime." Joey jumps into her arms, making her groan. He really is getting too heavy to be carried around.

I make room beside me, squishing against the side of the sofa. She sits down, kissing my forehead. I tickle Joey's side. He squeals, pushing me away.

"Emma, don't," he says, in a stern tone.

"Are you excited for Santa to come?" I ask, waiting for his response.

He nods, grinning. "I really hope he finds us," he says, pointing around the room. "We don't have a fire place for him to fit down."

Ben laughs. "Santa is magical Joe, he'll find a way in, don't worry," he says, reassuring our little brother.

Dad presses play on the remote and another video plays. Eventually, Daniel and Owen join us with Beatrice.

This is how we spend the rest of evening, watching home videos; crying at some because of the hurt still being so close to our heart but laughing too at the memories we are glad we still have and will never forget.

The next morning is chaos.

There is a sea of wrapping paper on the floor, a piece sticking to my socked feet as I try to maneuver around the living room. Its not any easier either with crutches.

Dad laughs, pulling it off my sock. Speaking of socks, that's my favourite part of the morning, opening the stockings that hang on the wall beside the Christmas tree. We each get cool knick knacks. Mom loves picking mine out, putting bracelets and candies in it. The boys get socks and deodorant.

"Emma, come play trucks with me," Joey says, beside him, pointing to his new cars play set, a city mat and everything. I smile.

"I will in a few minutes, okay buddy," I say, moving out of the disaster zone.

Jude and Logan sit on the sofa, talking to Daniel and Beatrice. Owen helps mom in the kitchen, beginning to cook dinner for all of us. Quinn, Aidan and Ben sit in front of the television playing a new game.

"Emma, are you feeling alright sweetheart?" Mom asks, feeling my forehead. "You look a little pale." I nod, grabbing the Tylenol on the counter.

"I'm fine, just a small headache," I say, reassuring her. It doesn't wash the concern from her face. Owen turns around, handing me a glass of water and I swallow the pills, chasing them with water.

My phones buzzes with a message in my hoodie pocket and I take it out.

I smile, seeing its from Austin.