It's January 15th and its time for the tree to come down.My husband won't let up.
The boxes for putting away the ornaments, garland and lights are sitting right there. I got used to leaving the tree on at night. (Though I had promised using conservation on electric by shutting it off
when I went to bed). It displays collections of my mothers exquisite and corny ornaments. I couldn't put even 1/16th of what she had on the 3'.5" tree that now sits in my Livingroom.
This Christmas was different than all the ones since four of my family are gone. I had always scrambled around, putting garland around every doorway. A big wreath of fresh pine hung on the front door. Bells and angles sat atop pictures, and extra ornaments went on the kitchen curtains. Candle lights flickered from every first floor window. More of my mothers ornaments and notions fit on the big 6' fake scot pine. It required the insertion of 96 bows and limbs, and when it was all done and dressed, I was exhausted. After all in my Mom's heyday, there were four kids, a Collie,, a husband and a few living relatives to share it with.
Just my husband and I walk the floors here and a bunch of friends who pass through. I spend a lot of my time, reading and writing in quiet hours. Maybe I once thought an overdressed Christmas could bring my family back. As time passed, I realized what they left behind never came in a box.It didn't beam out from lights or tinsel or hide in the candles fire.
They did leave me a bunch of stories, letters and photos in trunks for me. All the rest that has come to matter is inside my head and my heart. They were successful, generous and kind people. Kindness can't be manufactured by having a million Facebook likes, overloading your tree with flashy ornaments, or trying to display all the valuable property you have. If you possess kindness, your focus is to give things away any way. Throw in some talent and an ability to surround yourself with people who understand and inspire you, then that is more than enough.
With some relief it took me less than one hour and a half to put Christmas away in my house this year. The flickering candles can stay there as long as the batteries last. They represent the light of love which I carry each day and doesn't go out. I am no longer in a hurry for anything. I've re-purposed the Christmas I once worshipped in favor of the Christmas into one that allows me to love who I am and where I have travelled to. Standing here where the tree was, I am suddenly on a path where nothing feels missing.
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