Since I am older now, I spend more time enjoying memories than making them. Take Christmas trees for example. (Apologies to my Jewish friends who do not decorate trees during this season.)
When my box of Christmas tree ornaments is opened the process begins. Yesterday, I looked at my daughter’s tree and loved how she and her children decorated it (just like we always did). Yes, the process endures. My three-year-old grandson said, “Mamaw, we don’t touch the breakable ones,” as he reaches for a breakable angel to show me how not to.
My granddaughter, Katherine, hung five red glass chili peppers all in a row upon one branch because she thought “they went together.” Those chili peppers came from a trip to San Antonio one summer in which we visited the Alamo, Sea World, and the Hill Country Hyatt to experience that lazy flowing river for family tubing. My daughter’s favorite black glass orca ornament is also on her tree, as a remembrance of that special vacation. It was a classic, mostly happy family outing, until Laura wet the bed that she and Anne were sleeping in together.
Another branch showed a gathering of Oreos. Yes, Oreo cookies knitted in brown yarn, life-size, with white yarn filling. These were knitted by my mother many years ago because she wanted me to remember how much Oreos cookies and milk meant to me growing up. She was always on a quest to expand my non-breakable ornaments since I was “too busy to make my own.” And I also found one of my mother’s hand embroidered white star ornaments. She made so many attempts to supply me with plenty of special ornaments for my kids when they were growing up.
My daughter’s red double-decker bus ornament bespoke of a special trip. Together with her King’s Guard figurine ornament standing tall in his red jacket and fuzzy black hat, they reminded us of our trip to England with a large group of students when Anne was in the sixth grade. The drama teacher organized this journey and oh, how the children loved experiencing The Lion King on stage in a London theatre. The King’s Guard at Buckingham Palace was fascinating, but the kids were less enthusiastic about the British Museum. On that trip I was able to use my pediatrician skills to examine a twelve-year-old girl crying with “severe” stomach pain and determine that she did not have appendicitis. It’s lucky to have a doctor-mom along as a chaperone.
The snowflake made of cream-colored Lennox china, with Anne written in gold, stood out as a gentle reminder of my two little girls who had then grown up just enough to handle breakable ornament gifts from my mother. Every year there was one for Anne and one for Laura, always engraved, always pretty or musical, and often some gorgeous rendition of an angel. As each child aged out of my home, I packaged up the ornaments that were theirs and sent them off to be protected, remembered, and loved on the next generation’s tree.
On my own tree, the gilded aspen leaf ornaments from Pike’s Peak stirred up the memory of Laura’s first episode of altitude sickness. After happily viewing the revered giraffe family at the Colorado Springs Zoo, the girls and I drove up to Pike’s Peak, elevation 14,115 feet. While I shopped for ornaments, eight-year-old Laura laid down on a bench in the lodge café, looking pale, and became unresponsive. When I discovered her with a thready pulse and lethargy – I thought she must have sepsis – I carried her to the car to drive towards help. As we descended the mountain, she revived. Big lesson in altitude sickness.
The sand dollar, star fish, and seashell ornaments from Pensacola, Florida always bring back happy memories of summer vacations at my parents’ home on the intercoastal waterway there. The kids were in the water constantly, playing in the white sand, or off collecting sand dollars and star fish from Pensacola Beach with my mother. We all enjoyed the boating and biking along Perdido Key, so those delicate white sand dollars seem magical still.
One of my favorites is a precious wooden sea turtle ornament from our Hawaii family vacation. It inspires memories of our family snorkeling together on Maui. Our extravaganza was a catamaran trip out to Coral Gardens for more swimming and snorkeling. We were told to stay near the boat, but, somehow, I seemed to swim further out, trying to follow this beautiful turtle, and this drove my husband crazy since he could not see where I was. He and the children searched for me all around the boat, and when I returned, unscathed, I was in big trouble with him and the children. That family story never dies.
I love the beautiful cloisonne butterflies from our Key West family adventure. The Butterfly Museum was one highlight, since we all walked among butterflies who landed on our shoulders and fingers to grant our wishes or to simply generate good will. Anne brought her best friend along on this spring break trip and I allowed the three girls their own room. What a mess! Key West is a great place for biking but not the place to take teenage girls who do not eat fish!
Surely, other mothers and grandmothers have ornaments such as mine, ones thoughtfully selected during unique family trips together. You can remember, and tell stories as you remove each one from the box to decorate your tree. As you regard them and remember happy times, you will hope that your grown children will do the same someday, too.
We humans love stories and, for me, Christmas tree ornaments represent our stories. So, mama, please look at your ornaments, remember your stories, and share the love.
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My tree also takes me down memory lane each year. I love reminiscing about each trip and sharing with my girls memories that they were too young to remember. I look forward to it every year.
I love how Christmas ornaments tell stories about who we are, where we've been, and what kind of family we have.