There is a box in the middle of my living room. It is full of pieces of my memory. Some are older, moments from my childhood passed on. Others are recent, some as new as this year. Each piece means something, or somebody, to me. Some of these memories, these moments, are small. Others still are significant.
My father started the ornament thing. His family was all about the decorations on the tree. A red shiny ball with a name existed for each and every child and grandchild. Others were there to commemorate a period of time or a special occasion. When my mother and father had their first tree, his parents gifted him several of the ones they had collected for him. When I was married, my parents did the same.
I had one Christmas, a few years back, where they didn’t make an appearance. It was a year with a combination of problems, moving soon after the holiday, a failure left me feeling less than festive. That was a dark Christmas. No photos, no tree, no real celebrating. It was my last Christmas with my ex, but I didn’t know that then.
This is my second Christmas with D. Last year was our first, and I had plenty of time to decorate, bake, prepare. The year before that, I was home for the holiday, so there was no big deal made. This year, I’m stressed about my dad and overwhelmed at work. The hours I’ve been home, I’ve been too exhausted to finish my holiday to-do list.
I need to finish the tree, if nothing else. The ornaments mean something, and they may be just the thing to make me feel grateful and possibly even hopeful this December. From the angels for my lost angels to the snowflakes from friends around the globe, I need those memories; those glittery, sparkling, shiny pieces from life. Those tokens of family and Christmases past.
3 thoughts on “ornamental”
Hope you find the mental space (the emotional space) and time to put the tree together, if for nothing else, the completion. And more than that, because it sounds like it means so much when it all comes together.
What a lovely post. There’s always something to be grateful for, though sometimes it’s hard to find. Hope you find it this year.
Our tree is my “thing” at christmas, and I can recite the story behind every ornament for you. It means something to me to be connected to the past through all those little shiny bits even if it doesn’t mean anything to anyone else.