The past few days I have been clearing away Christmas decorations: three trees, hundreds of ornaments, and even more lights. Textiles and decorations have been cleaned, whisked away, and stored. A room suddenly without a Christmas tree is a shock, isn’t it?
We are all in the midst of this cleaning and resetting process after Christmas. It’s both a chore and a relief. With the end of abundance, we are left with a blank space, so symbolic of the year ahead.
The early adult years for our children when they were able to come home for Christmas masked the reality of the change that was always happening. Inevitably, we move beyond one home base. Some traditions fall away each year as we learn to navigate new roles. But the decorations live in a predictable state of repetition.
When we are all together again for Christmas (maybe in 4 years), the same decorations will probably be on the shelves, walls, and the tree, but the time together will be even shorter. Our home will be a brief stopping place for most of our children who will be busy with family life and careers. How predictable, but surprising when it happens. We will be known by some iteration of Grandmother and Grandfather, and not so much by the titles of Mom and Dad.
As I set up and pack away Christmas, I handle reminders of our lifetime, and even those ornaments that I have passed on to our married children return to memory. So many of my Christmas decorations are inherited. I remember what it was like to visit the homes of my grandmothers when I handle their dishes and pretty things. For me, Christmas decorations are family history, and the ritual of seeing them each year helps me remember religious feeling, the innocence of childhood, and our family legacy.
I’ve taken time to pause and look back, and now I am ready for a new year. The Nativities have been replaced by hopeful whites and shiny silver (once I remove the tarnish). Happy New Year! 😃
