For many years after my husband and I combined households, I held on to that dream - that someday, my tree would look as elegant, coordinated, and overall as polished as hers always did. The first year my husband and I were together, he eagerly pulled out his assortment of Christmas ornaments. After his divorce, he was left with a small collection - just the ornaments passed down from his family, and a few of the scrappy, painted-macaroni style ornaments the children had brought home from school.
He was so eager to put them up on the tree - and as we had joined households, how could I say no? But with no small amount of anxiety, I tried to ensure they weren't in spaces where they would stand out. I wanted my coordinated ornaments to be the focus. I wanted my gold and red sash ribbon, and gold and red ornaments to be the focus.
When we took everything down for Christmas that year, I separated the ornaments...his in one package, mine in the special boxes they'd always had. He wasn't there at the time, but had he seen how carefully I kept the two apart, I think it would have broken his heart.
I felt the same way for the next year or two...begrudgingly hanging his family ornaments with mine, and every year, adding more of the kids' creations. And then, a few years ago, we had a year with no Christmas tree. It wasn't due to lack of funds...more due to lack of Christmas spirit, and the presence of a rather large refrigerator in my living room.
That year...broke my heart. Christmas has always been the most magical time of year for me. Up until 2009, it was magical because I have a wonderful, huge, nosy, judgmental, loving, amazing family. Christmastime has always meant lots of family gatherings, lots of food, lots of presents, lots of love, getting lost in the noise and chaos and craziness of our family. In 2009, that changed, and for the first time, Christmas really meant something to me because of Jesus...whose birth may not have been at that exact time of year, but whose birth we celebrate on that day. Jesus, born just like all of us, in human form, as an innocent child.
Christmas is going to look different for us this year. With my grandma's passing in January, a lot of things have shifted for our family. I had a lot of family who came in from out of town, mainly to spend time with Grandma. Now that she's gone, they don't feel the need to do so anymore. Christmas will be smaller, with fewer loved-ones on hand. We won't be at my grandparent's house - where we've spent every Christmas since 1985. That's not the end of the world - we've been other places before...but that house had come to be so central to our family gatherings. Thanksgiving was the first holiday that didn't feel glaringly different. I'm not sure yet how this year will feel.
I do know that decorating the tree felt different this year. As we put up our decorations, I was struck at how perfectly our tree, with his decorations, my decorations, the kids' decorations, OUR decorations...perfectly reflects our family. I am looking at a gold painted macaroni wreath, next to a painted ceramic stocking made when we all went to That Pottery Place our first year together. Close by there is a ceramic globe with a snow scene painted by my mother when I was growing up, and a stuffed teddy bear from my husband's childhood. Our tree is an amazing blend of our life. We are a blended family. We have a crazy, mismatched, over-loaded, beautifully blended tree.
Thank you God, not only for the blessing of my family, but for the realization of how special it is.
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