Last year at this time, I was struggling to find the joy in my favorite season. It was two months after my mother had passed and the last thing I wanted to think about was decorating and enjoying my favorite things such as Christmas carols, movies and lighting the tree. I didn’t put up a tree until the week before Christmas. It was a battle every time someone asked me how I was doing. Their concern came from love but at the same time I wanted to be done with the concern. I didn’t want to see the head tilt and slightly furrowed brow as they assessed every nuance of my response. I wanted to be past it, but you can’t just wish it away unfortunately. I had to move through it and rely on patience from those same loved ones.
This year, my tree is already up and has been up since the moment I felt the first urge weeks ago. I got a new one with nine fancy light settings and slightly flocked branches. I’ve unpacked all my nutcrackers to the delight of my nieces (I buy them one each year now). I rearranged breakable items to be out of the reach of a curious 22-month-old nephew.
One of those breakable items is a small, worn-out little ceramic Avon Christmas village that once belonged to my mom. It was part of our Christmas décor for as long as I can remember, and I coveted it. It’s down to five buildings and three very questionable figurines. Questionable because the paint is wearing thin which makes their expressions a bit….cryptic.
She used to lay out the fluffy fake snow and place the village out. Each little ceramic building has a hole in the bottom for a string of lights. The villagers are caroling or sledding, and I think some used to ice skate though they’re lost to time now. When I found the village among her things in the days after her passing, they were wrapped in comics from a newspaper. She hadn’t used them in so long that I assumed she’d lost them in-between moving to Washington and back. There they were though, a little dirty, but no major damage. I whisked them away to my car, under the veil of secrecy from my brothers to ensure they would be mine. This really wasn’t necessary however, as my brother rarely deny me since I am the youngest sibling.
I quietly placed them on a shelf in my living room, far from the reach of little hands. I don’t have any lights yet but the village sits there looking at the tree. I find myself browsing the holiday section in various stores, contemplating adding additional features and buildings. I am rediscovering my love of Christmas this year. I have young nieces and nephews so their excitement helps to rekindle my own. It will be our third year doing the annual Christmas cookie decorating. Christmas has always been a big holiday for my mom and now I can continue to make it that way with the rest of the family. This year won’t be tinged with sadness but will carry the glow of hope.
