It was either a pink tree, white, or silver. My intentions were to create a holiday tree with no emotions attached. Having a 13 year old child required a tree be decked and installed as a holiday icon. I was having no part of it this year. Not a bah humbug sort of way. Just a feeling of new. New and different. Removed from tradition. Originally I planned 2 small trees with simple decorations. Aimee, convinced it was the work of dragging the tree and ornaments from the basement which discouraged my desire for the merriment, offered to "do all of the work". I knew, right then. There. A tree symbolizes so much more than presents to this dear child.
How fun would it be to start new?
The ornaments from years past are still safely tucked away in their said red and green totes. Most will remain there.With the exception of the snowflakes and a few nondescript baubles, our tree is a quiet symbol, a hushed whisper of calm. No "baby's firsts" or "new homes" or wonderful handmade childhood creations of my four now grown kiddos. In years to come those ornaments can return. Just not this year.
As I read recently about memory. These notions came to mind. We spend our days creating those "happy memory moments" documenting them with photos and journals. When did our species become so obsessed with creating and storing memories? Is this a maternal thing? For good or for bad, we cling to the past. Hoping to search and find ourselves there.
Maybe it's my getting older, Maybe it's the issue of my own mother that I wrestled with this year. Something snapped inside of my Christmas consciousness. I want to dream of the Christmas in the future. I want to anticipate exciting whimsical holidays. I needed a clean slate.
All of my ornaments represented the past. Not that those associations are negative. Just past.
I'm not sure when we started stuffing presents in our Christmas tree. It's not a tradition. Just a way to secure the gift cards and small presents from becoming lost in the chaos of Christmas morning. This year is no exception for this quirky little family thing.
A few old out dated brass horns were sprayed white with paint. A new crystal clear star on top. There you have it!
Aimee has her tree.
One, I'm sure she will remember for a very long time.
And I have a memory free tree.
One that simply dances, glows and doesn't echo the events or occasions of the past.
Wishing you and yours a damned good, celebrating life, future anticipating 2015!