I have to take the tree down today and I've a melange of feelings about this annual task. The tree looks lovely, its still-fresh branches hefting our collection of ornaments, each one a memory of past family moments.
My favorites are many. My daughter's picture on a red paper bell, cut, glued and decorated by her then tiny two year old hands; the dancing macaroni-dressed silver star fashioned by my son, kindergarten. A mouse sleeps in her lace covered matchbox, a gift from my Mom; a red wooden heart announces "our first Christmas together," our first ornament as a couple; a painted ceramic heart given us from my mom-in-law which says, "Christmas is Family."
A coppery-gold ribbon winds its way through the tree, a glittery pathway to each memory.
"Exit here to revisit Kay's ballerina days" or "here's a reminder of Matt's football days, summer practices and cheering his high school games!" A new ornament, a Radko designed celebration of Pat's home state, Missouri, hangs near the tree top.
The essence of the Christmas tree, a personal expression, a celebration of life in all of it's brightly lit, red, green and golden silver sparkle resting on green feathered branches!
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