I know it's too early but I have Christmas decorating fever. I'm spending too much time on Pintrest looking for new and more beautiful ways to decorate my home. Last night I started thinking about Christmas past and my own family's traditional decorating. I thought I'd share it with you.
Growing up we had a real tree. It was always in the same spot in the living room tied to the window so that when the cat climbed up it, as they always did, the tree would not end up on the floor with broken glass embedded in the carpet as it did a few times before the string. Every second day someone would wriggle under the tree to the base to water it. Almost always missing the tree stand bowl! Because it would dry out inside, the decorating began just a week before the big day so there would still be needles left on the tree when New Year's Day rolled around. Mom would start later than others as she left it up til "Old Christmas" which was January 6th. A whole entire week extra.
The process of actually putting on the ornaments could not begin til Uncle Bernie could spend a day putting the lights on. And yes it seemed to be a full days project. Mom thought she did a horrible job hanging the lights, she did a great job, but in her mind his way was perfect. I think they enjoyed spending time together more than he was an expert. They would laugh, play a few games of cards, laugh some more, and somehow the lights would get installed. She bought a fake tree, complete with lights, after he died. It was never about the lights.
We always had garland strung from the ceiling of the living room and over the doorways. Not the green fake branches stuff but the shiny, colored, "don't let the cat eat it he'll die" stuff. We all loved helping til it came time to put on the tinsel. No one wanted anything to do with that! Mom was adamant those little silver strands went on one at a time. One at a time! A week before Christmas we were beyond excited that Santa was coming and relatives were bringing gifts and she would demand we went slowly? Not gonna happen.
Mom had those stiff paper Christmas bells that were all the rage years ago. The kind that opened up with a couple of metal pieces to fold over. She hung those in the center of doorways and from windows. A small one always hung from the kitchen doorway that led into the hall. I used to jump as high as I could to try and swat it. As years passed my head would hit it if I didn't move. I swatted it every single time.
We never had wreathes but always a string of blue lights across the front of the house. Those stayed on all night on the 24th and 25th. One year Dad made a star and hung it from the top of the pine tree in the front yard. He climbed as high as he could and ran extension cords to light it up. He was so proud. As he got older the one string became two, then three then enough so the space station could see it as they went by!
I just realized something. I don't remember many of the presents I got. Yet I can tell you in perfect detail how beautiful our home looked with the lights and decorations. How I used to lay on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket staring at the tree and the gifts with multicolored bows arranged carefully underneath. Even the special Christmas dishes that we had to pre-wash to get the dust off of before we could use them.
Funny how we think the memories will be about the gifts. Not even close.
Ang
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