At an idyllic setting, by the ocean of the New Hampshire seacoast just a little over a year ago, our family met and celebrated Christmas. The rented house, with its huge enclosed porch, gave a panoramic view of the ocean.

Previous years have found our family in rented houses in various locations throughout New Hampshire.

Our nuclear family, so spread apart, tends to merge during this season. Our togetherness, as a unit, is fostered by our renewal of family ties.

Although this ocean retreat seemed the best yet, it dawned on me, they are all special and the reason for this is our whole family gets to be together again. To coin a new phrase, “Heart is where the family is no matter where the home might be.”

After we’d taken an invigorating walk along the beach with the family and two dogs, the daylight began to fade amidst the pink and purple sky framed by the neutral ocean sand. The view was breathtaking. I vowed to get up early the two mornings we would be there to watch the sun come up over the ocean.

The next day, walking that same route, we were pleased to spot two male surfers in black wet suits riding some of the larger-than-usual ocean waves. My two granddaughters, ages 6 and 3, picked up assorted seashells for later painting and wrapping as Christmas gifts. Their excited chatter sang in my ears amidst the crashing of the waves. I cherished every moment of this place and being with those I love.

Soon we would be enjoying dinner together, all of my children and their children, at a candlelit table, warm and cozy after the chilly but energizing winter breeze.

As the day drew to a close we all admired the huge Christmas tree bedecked in Victorian ornaments, delicate white lights, and a lit angel adorning its peak. Soon we would all be placing our gifts to each other under the tree to be opened in the morning.

Upon awakening I kept my promise to myself and watched as the shadowy moving distant forms became more distinct against the bluing sky. As the new day began and the kitchen took on the bustle of an awakening family, the smells of breakfast permeated the air.

A casual remark to my son-in-law remains in my mind to this day as I recall that “all-too-perfect” holiday.

“What could spoil this tranquil setting?” I said aloud as I pondered the powerful morning waves from our safe and sunlit enclosed porch. Under the massive tree with its colorful decorations and gaily wrapped packages, the word, a word I have never uttered aloud before, came forth from my mouth. “A tsunami.” Even then it sounded so foreign to my lips – had I pronounced it right?

The following day, on another coast, we were to hear of one of the most devastating tsunamis in recent history. The more recent hurricane, Katrina, further attests to the power of nature despite its coexisting beauty. It seems so ironic that our family could be experiencing this same ocean, a part of all the others, in such a different light.

I’m sure there are many more who will never view this, one of the wonders of nature, in quite the same way ever again.

Gloria Powell lives in Palmyra. She is a speech-language therapist at the Etna-Dixmont School.