Christmas: Or not.

My decoration boxes have been changing over the years.  From cardboard boxes that were packed by the military for moves, to the plastic tubs.  They've grown in number, been replaced, been labeled and been loved on.  And now the elimination process has begun.  Anyone over 30 years old knows the routine.  What was once valuable has lost value.  What was once important, loses importance.  And then, what was once often shared is no longer seen by others.  That's where this year's boxes land.  If only one person sees the tree, the ornaments, the memories, is it worth it?  If only the person who painstakingly opens every Hallmark box, unwraps each ornament, replaces the wrapping, returns the box to the tub and hangs the ornament on the tree sees it - is it worth it?

That is where I am tonight.  Because after being in a home that will share a tree with parents, brothers and their families, children and grandchildren this year, I find myself once again feeling so very alone.  I have no parents, no siblings, no grandchildren to share the tree with.  The husband has never been a sentimental holiday type.  He may be here in the house, but he's not one to care if there is a tree or not.  One child will not be able to return again this holiday season. One child will most likely not return to the house while the tree is decorated.  And if he returns, he won't have the same sentimental attraction.  Over 30 years of ornaments, based on times, places and events of my life will be just more ornaments.  Unmatching, unrelated, not uniform is size or color.  Just an array of memories.  My memories.  In a room no one sits in or enjoys, full of memories that no one else shares.  So, some tubs have not made it down from the attic.  Some tubs that made the cut will not be emptied. I don't think I can let them go... not yet.  I can't donate them - because the value is in the memory, not in the cost.

Half of me obviously still wants them displayed.  After all, I climbed in the attic, carried those tubs down,  lined them up in the living room, and put together a decorated tree.  Just a tree.  (And like last year, no packages under it.  Gift giving has also changed over the years.  Instead of all the shopping, wrapping and opening, it's a check.  Money is something each child wants and needs.  Material gifts?  Not really.)  The bag of all the Christmas stuffed deer and etc are still waiting - in the bag.  I don't have the heart to take them all out, line them all up, place them in their places they have been in for years, for no one to see.  Along with the rest of Christmas.  That no one else will see.  The tears will fall, from the memories I have of the years I DID share Christmas.  Strange how tears can hurt because of the happy times they remember.

Time to do something else.  Possibly get out the ceramic tree my mom made. The only Christmas decoration she brought from Llano to her apartment here. Maybe the connection with her will help.  Because she would be the only one who would understand right now.  Because she would never think I was silly for crying over memories made.. and lost. I miss her.  I miss talking to her.  And I regret ever taking those conversations for granted.