Christmas is magical when you are a child. As you grow into an adult it is easy to let Christmas
evolve into a stressful time of checklist, commercialism, and “must do”
activities. It is easy to lose the
spirit of Christmas. This year, I have
truly tried to get into the spirit of the season. We decorated, we put out the elf, and we
drove and looked at lights. I have baked
cookies with the children, sang carols, and put out milk and cookies for
Santa. I truly could not fully get into
it this year. It is the stress, I think-
the pressure to make the holidays perfect for my boys, to check the things off
their list, to hit all of the traditions.
I even caught myself wishing we would skip Christmas Eve service so we
could get things done. As we sat in the service, I felt ashamed I
wanted to deprive my children of the true meaning of why we celebrate. I promised never would I think of skipping
our church celebration of Jesus’ birth.
Today, I am taking down my decorations, returning my house
to its PreChristmas state. It is a
little depressing to know this holiday is over so quickly. I became a little depressed taking the
ornaments off the tree. It started with
me thinking I really need to invest in some sturdy Christmas boxes next year
and separate the ornaments into boxes according to who’s they are. My mom did that for my sister and me. As children, we became excited when she
pulled out our box each year so we could decorate the tree. When
we started our own families, we got our boxes to put on our own trees. Every time we received an ornament, mom wrote
our name and the year on it.
As I pulled the ornaments off the tree, I looked at the ones
my parents bought me the year I was born.
They are a little shabby and worn, but I would never dream of not
putting them on my tree. I am so
thankful to have such a wonderful mom and dad.
They made the holidays special every year. I never take for granted they are here to
watch their grandson’s grow and celebrate their achievements with them. When things get tough for me, I know they are
behind me.
When we went to my sister’s house to celebrate, I found an
ornament of mine. It should have ended
up in my box. I have no idea how she got
it. (I suspect she STOLE it!) It is and ornament with a picture of me from
the second grade. It really is embarrassing. I have a short bob cut and large 80’s style
glasses on. I gasped when I saw it and
loudly questioned her about it. She
calmly answered, “I put it up every year.
I love it.” I hate that ornament
and could have easily made it disappear when leaving. Yet, I couldn’t bring
myself to do it. It is her tradition, no
matter how embarrassing. (I may make one
of her for my own tree! Christmas is at my house next year! )
I pulled ones my
children have gotten from my mom and dad, each with their name and year sharpie
markered on the bottom. I am so very,
very thankful they have kept up the tradition for my boys. What a gift it will be years from now when
they put up their own tree to see their name written in their grandmother’s
teachers script.
I packed up ornaments made by my husband’s mom. What a blessing she was to our family! It saddens me she no longer is here to
celebrate Christmas with us. As I put
away the ornaments from my husband’s childhood, I was grateful I not only was
able to know his mom but felt comfortable enough to call her mom. I still call his father dad. Things have changed a lot since Mom C passed.
Putting the ornaments on the tree gives us an opportunity to remember Christmas
with her. I delight when I hear my older
boys telling Joey about things she did, like making cinnamon ornaments with
them. I am thankful they have such
wonderful cousins and a great aunt and uncle.
I am thankful we have grown closer as a family every year. I feel I inherited an extra sister and
brother instead of in-laws.
Then, there are our vacation ornaments. We pick them up on family trips so we can
remember every year when we put them on the tree. I have ornaments from the Bahamas, London,
Paris, and Germany. I have Disney
ornaments from our Disney trips. How
blessed we have been to show our children the world.
As a child, I celebrated Christmas with grandparents. Mema and Woodrow would come on Christmas
Eve. We would eat a great dinner
prepared by my mom and open family gifts.
Mema would give us extravagant gifts.
It was not unusual to get jewelry, fur coats, and limited- edition porcelain
dolls. We were given things all little
girls dream of. She taught me so much
about being a lady. From her, I learned
not to wear white after Labor Day, which fork goes with which course, and
decorum. Aaron and I stayed at the Ritz
on our wedding night. She is the reason
Aaron looked at me and said, “I am uncomfortable dealing with this
extravagances, however, you carry yourself as if you belong here.”
We traveled to my other grandparent’s house on Christmas
day. Kristi and I were surrounded by
loads of cousins, uncles, aunts, and distant relatives. Most years, we were given gift made by my
grandmother. Because of her, I have
embroidered pillowcases, bible covers, room decorations, and hand sewn
clothing. I think it is because of her,
I enjoy making crafts and home-made gifts myself. I knew when she was making my
gift, that despite our large family, she was thinking of me at that
moment. To me, that was better than the
actual gift. Who knows? My family may hate my hand-made gifts.
I guess depressed is the wrong word to describe how I am
feeling. I feel bittersweet. I celebrate the wonderful holidays I have
celebrated and feel sorry they are over and things have changed. Yet, I am thankful for the opportunity to
forge new family traditions. I felt it
was important to write this down, print it out, and pack it with our Christmas
decorations. Maybe this will help to
remind me to slow down next year and savor the little moments.
