It was hard to give it up, but this year the Christmas tree sits in its box. Sometimes things happen and life is changed forever.
The kitchen corner used to hold a pot with a small ornamental tree but it grew and grew and tended to attack you when you came in the back door. So I moved it into the living room. It persists in growing and now takes up the space of a large lazy-boy chair. That was the space where I used to put my Christmas tree. So it was an either/or dilemma and I love that little tree. So this Christmas there is an 18 inch fibre optic one that is perched on a small stand in the front window. I found some tiny decorations from the past that help give it the illusion of being a real Christmas tree.
Nearby is my TV. I splurged a few years back and bought myself a 37 inch one. It helps replace the companionship I had of Harry sitting beside me in the living room. There are a lot of lonely hours in a widow’s life.
At the base of the TV are three tall, fuzzy green deer. The largest one looks arrogantly across the room, his neck stiff, with almost a military stance. This year I found a small bunch of false fruit and Christmas holly and placed it between its antlers. You just can’t look elegant with that kind of headdress…I grin every time I look at it.
The TV is now framed by the length of tinsel that used to be on the tree. It is kind of ironic that the TV has now become the focal part of the whole room. It sort of makes me wonder if perhaps that has happened in other families too. A wise author I read said we tend to worship at the TV …and it’s true. We spend more time with it than with God.
I bravely crawled up a short ladder and hung some decorations on the arms of the entry light, but that’s the last time I will do that. The entry landing is right beside the stairwell, and it would be a headlong fall that could result in my ending up like Humpty Dumpty.
I still put up my nativity scene…made by a dear friend about twenty years ago. It has a place of honor and reminds me and visitors that this celebration is about the birth of a baby and the promise of heaven.
Yes, things are different this year. It is the 8th year of my widowhood and Harry is still missed but I have memories of him racing down the street in a Santa outfit on Christmas Eve, banging on doors and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas…so that’s what I will do now…minus the Santa outfit…wish you my readers a Merry Christmas and that the Gifts of the Spirit are yours throughout the New Year. God bless each one of you!
Photo by Sergé via Flickr/CC
