Christmas Ornaments

A couple of weekends ago, we went and got our Christmas tree. After much debate over real versus fake, we decided real would be better this year. Next year, we’ll hopefully be a bit more settled and can take time to find the right fake tree. For since I’ve never had a fake tree, I believe in the importance of a good one.

Anyhow, we bundled up and went over to the tree lot at the local volunteer Fire Department. I was surprised that we were the only ones there, although one of the firemen told me it would be their busiest weekend. (I guess lots of people put up their trees when Navy plays Army…although, let’s not talk about it. We’re still grieving…) We took our time finding the “perfect” tree. Mostly, Ed looked. I chased Emry about, who didn’t seem overly impressed with the whole venture. However, we did get to see the brand new fire trucks and got a blueberry donut in the deal. That we got a tree was a side note in Emry’s book.

After we had chosen our tree and left, it must have gotten busy because it was 1:30 before the firemen delivered it to our house. By then, Emry needed to go down for a nap as she needed to rest up for her cousins, aunt, uncle and grandparents coming over that evening. So, after she saw the tree set up and the firemen left, I put her down for a nap while Ed and I decorated.

It’s come to the point of my life when I can say I have had certain things for “decades” not just “years”. So it is with Christmas ornaments. Despite that fact, it is amazing how I forget ornaments from one year to the next. And yet, my forgetfulness also makes opening up the box of ornaments and pulling them out one at a time a great deal of fun and memories.

This year, it was the ornaments from my grandmother that have meant the most to me. I have only a handful of them, mostly bought at craft shows I’m guessing. But each one has my name on it (and the year) written in my grandmother’s handwriting and often says “Grandmother” on the back. Tears came to my eyes when I pulled them out, hanging them on my tree and knowing that I would not see that handwriting this year on any envelopes or packages. A piece missing from the Christmas I have always known…

Next year, hopefully, Emry will be of an age when she can hang the ornaments on the tree, helping me unpack her handful (while trying to keep her brother or sister away from them). They will become pieces of her Christmas, reminders of aunts, and grandparents, and all the memories she can hold as she gets older. Pieces of joy, and hope, and love.

Christmas is, truly, a wonderful time of the year!