We are beginning our ridiculous Christmas weekend. For the first time we’re actually doing Christmas in our own home. We typically fly or drive to our childhood homes and have wonderful times of celebration. Because we do that, however, we don’t bother to decorate our home. In the process, however, we miss a big part of this celebratory weekend.
For years Kim has been collecting lights and ornaments and, we discovered, some truly ugly garland in anticipation of her new family’s new traditions. This is the year that begins. We will be home for Christmas and we will be beginning the traditions that our children will carry with them until they decide it is time that they create their own new traditions with their new families.
So we are blending. We’ll go with small twinkling lights instead of the larger ones, we’ll try and string popcorn and cranberries, we just got the tree that fit my specifications – the top has to be taller than I can reach on my tiptoes (that makes for a darn big tree). We have Christmas music playing. We’ll rearrange all the furniture so the tree has its proper, honored place. We’ll make a fire on this happily cloudy day and we’ll anticipate the morning we choose to honor the miraculous birth of a little baby who was God.