The Christmas tree is a fascinating holiday decoration to me. I have been in homes in which the tree is a work of art. As if Martha Stewart herself had decorated it. It can have a theme such as Victorian, Scandinavian, rustic or something else with taste. So beautiful and elegant that it takes your breath away. My family tree unfortunately is not that way. The ornaments do not match. Some are wooden, some are round glass, some flat metal, some are homemade. One year even the lights did not match. Martha Stewart would turn her head aghast, probably trying to keep her last meal down as if the sushi she ate was a week old.
Yet despite the mismatched ornaments that seem to have no
connection to any theme, I love the tree, and I love the process of bringing
the ornaments down from the attic and searching through the boxes for a special
ornament just as much. No, our tree does not have a theme, but it tells a
story. The boxes of ornaments are a time capsule of a family. To a certain
degree it is a time capsule of a family growing together. It also tells the
story of the individuals.
My daughter still puts up her Madeline and American Girl ornaments though she has not picked up those books or watched a video in years. My son has a Buzz Lightyear and Tigger ornament though like my daughter he has not watched a video in eons. We have several ornaments of the cats they grew up with, which must be put up. We also have stockings for the cats even though two of them have passed. They both have their musical instrument ornaments. My daughter her flute and my son his saxophone and drums.
I of course have several running ornaments as well as a Spartan and Tough Mudder ornaments. I also have a NY Mets ornament which also must be put up. My wife, because someone has to have class in the household, has a Swarovski and Portmeirion ornaments, but she only puts one up of each. She also loves the ornaments the kids made in first grade over two decades ago. When we first got married, she insisted that the top of the tree not be adorned with a star or an angel but Max Headroom. Somewhere over time old Max got lost. I miss him.
We also got in the habit of buying Christmas ornaments from
places we traveled too. It is adorned with loons and moose from Maine.
Ornaments from California, Zion National Park, New York State and Ireland. I
was sad when I saw our ornament from Waynesville, North Carolina. We vacationed
there and Asheville a while ago and now I was sure that many places we visited
were possibly destroyed by Hurricane Helene. It was a lovely trip, and we sent
a donation immediately following the storm.
While we have a few community ornaments each family member
has their own stock. We each take our own ornaments and decide where to place
them on the tree. For some reason it would be a social faux pas to put up an ornament
identified with another family member. One year my daughter could not make it
home until a couple of days before Christmas. We left the box with her
ornaments out until she came home to put them up herself. It seemed the tree
was incomplete until she did that.
Since over time we have traveled to more places, maybe took
on new interests or hobbies, we have more ornaments than can fit on one tree.
We have to sift through them to decide which ones make the cut. There are some
that we have not put on the tree in years, but we still take them out and look
at them. It is a good memory that we hold in our hand and then place back in
the box. Just looking at all the ornaments brings back a flood of good remembrances.
We may never place some of those ornaments on a future tree, but we keep them
stored because they are a great recollection.
I think that is what I like best about our tree. It is
adorned with memories and makes me reflect on our lives together. No matter how
hectic life is, and it can get very hectic during the holiday season, that tree
brings back great memories and reminds me of what is important in life.
On the night we decorate the tree, Christmas music plays in
the background. We will start a fire in the fireplace. At one end of the room
is the tree and the other a crackling fire. My wife and I share a glass of wine
and reminisce. Memories are floating all around us.
I love the living room with the tree even though it makes
the room seem small. From my chair I have the best view of it. I will sometimes
walk close to it and examine the ornaments and to relive a memory.
Yes, if Martha Stewart came in, she would be aghast at the
artistic quality. She does not, however, see what I see. It is a family story,
an ever-evolving novel. Next year I know that we will somehow gather a new
ornament or two and add a chapter to the novel. Now that I really think about it,
she may not be aghast, she may be jealous. Eat your heart out Martha.
Merry Christmas.
