spirit of christmas

my mother was a huge lover of christmas.  one of my fondest memories of her was when she would hang the old lead tinsel on the tree after all of the other decorations were present.  she hung that tinsel strand by strand.  it was perfect.  my way of putting on tinsel was throwing a handful at 3 feet away, and seeing where it would land.  i am sure my poor mother spent hours re-doing my abomination to her tree.

my mom was not the kind of person who like old things.  our tree mostly had newer ornaments.  she was very crafty, and we spent a lot of time making things to put on the tree.  we painted little plaster shapes, and stuck pins through sequins and fake pearl beads into styrofoam balls.  the tree was always beautiful to me, and is still a symbol of my mother at our house.  

i inherited my passion for the season from mom, but this year i didn't feel the magic.  i don't know what it was, but i felt like i couldn't bear to get out the boxes.  it just seemed like too much work, and the thought of putting it all away again overwhelmed me.

two saturdays ago, i came into the shop to work for the day.  i had a cloud of non-celebratory funk over my head.  as i drove home for the day, the cloud was still over me.  but when i hit our street, it vanished.  john and ben had put up the christmas lights, and they were sparkling my way into the driveway.  and when i got into the house, things were even better.  those two had put up the tree, decorated it, hung the stockings and wreaths, and filled the fireplace with pots and pots of red poinsettias.  

i burst into tears.

it was one of the nicest things that anyone had ever done for me.  as i type the story, i still tear up a bit.

now the house is decorated and cheery.  my collections of antique and kitschy christmas items are out for the world to see.  and the spirit is back inside me thanks to my son and my husband.  

thanks, guys.  and thanks, mom.