The Family Tree

One of my favorite Christmas memories is of the family tree. It was never anything polished or perfect with 100 generic bows, perfectly placed lights, and many same Christmas balls. It was unique. Each ornament had a story. A mismatched set of all the unfit Christmas ornaments gathered over the years. Hand made by little hands or carefully chosen because they were cute. Some indeed mass produced. Every year a few more added. Each kid had our favorites and we always got to hang them with care.

We had three extra special ones. A big glass ball with each of our names in glitter. Paige, Pam, and Scott. Always the first to be placed and always the last to be taken down.

Mom and Dad tried to give us kids those ornaments many years ago! NO! NEVER! I insisted. Pretty sure I even pissed off my sisters. Those were to always and forever be on Mom and Dad’s tree. Always!

I have a ton of those old ornaments but haven’t put up a tree in years. I know this year I should. And more so I should. But to be honest, this year without a tree means something different. I should put up the tree. But I won’t because it’s different.

All three glittered balls, Paige, Pam, and Scott, I’m sure are placed with care. I hope they are. It’s different this year and I won’t think any other way.

It’s Mom’s tree now. And it’s different.