I can't explain it. I am not really a very sentimental person. My daughter is fond of saying that her mother has no soul because the things most mothers ooh and ahh over, don't move me in the least. When she got married, I had no need to help her pick out her wedding gown. She happened to be shopping with friends and spotted one that would work. She emailed me the photo, only because she needed financial backing to make the purchase. Sure, I have saved a few works of art that she and her brother made as young kids. But when we moved to New York City, into a furnished 2 bedroom apartment, we dumped just about everything. I sold or gave away almost every piece of furniture, my wedding china, and many things that others, who have the "souls" my daughter suspects I lack, could have never parted with. So, my need to put up a Christmas tree and hang the ornaments that tell a story, baffles me every time I do it. The look of the tree is not important at all. I am not attached to a certain species of tree or even size. However, I learned the hard way that an artificial tree just will not do. We tried that one year and I simply could not decorate it. My husband, sensing my disappointment, went out that minute and came back with a beautiful real tree to surprise me.
This year, we had to go small since we have such a small place. I walked down Broadway and found a little 4 footer and carried it home on my shoulder. No husband required. It was already in a cute little tree stand. I opened the cabinet where all of the ornaments are stored and started going through them. Those that made the cut when we moved include: a hideous stuffed unicorn (the first Christmas ornament my husband ever bought me), a tree topper star (made by my husband when we couldn't afford one), an antique angel with a cracked face (purchased the next year when we had more money), 2 paper stars with crayon pictures colored by the kids, several bells bought for us by dear friends, 2 starfish-turned-Santas made by the kids, wooden cut-outs of the kids' names, sweet little boy/girl snow people with our names on them, 2 glass ornaments purchased at a seaside flea market, a potato representing my husband the year he was very ill, a penguin representing a book my husband wrote, and a strand of gold glass beads that hung on the family tree from the time I was a baby. I also have a small collection of Santa figurines that adorn the mantle, all of which have been given to me by my mother-in-law over the years.
Each year as I decorate the tree, my mind wanders back to events connected with each item and my heart just sings. I just can't explain it.
This year, we had to go small since we have such a small place. I walked down Broadway and found a little 4 footer and carried it home on my shoulder. No husband required. It was already in a cute little tree stand. I opened the cabinet where all of the ornaments are stored and started going through them. Those that made the cut when we moved include: a hideous stuffed unicorn (the first Christmas ornament my husband ever bought me), a tree topper star (made by my husband when we couldn't afford one), an antique angel with a cracked face (purchased the next year when we had more money), 2 paper stars with crayon pictures colored by the kids, several bells bought for us by dear friends, 2 starfish-turned-Santas made by the kids, wooden cut-outs of the kids' names, sweet little boy/girl snow people with our names on them, 2 glass ornaments purchased at a seaside flea market, a potato representing my husband the year he was very ill, a penguin representing a book my husband wrote, and a strand of gold glass beads that hung on the family tree from the time I was a baby. I also have a small collection of Santa figurines that adorn the mantle, all of which have been given to me by my mother-in-law over the years.
Each year as I decorate the tree, my mind wanders back to events connected with each item and my heart just sings. I just can't explain it.
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