A Surprising Christmas Rite of Passage

Have you ever had a moment you expected to like, but instead felt…verklempt? This happened as I watched my son Patrick carry out two large plastic boxes from our house. Inside lay our Christmas ornaments with lights and garland to bring to his apartment. He was off to buy a tree with his live-in girlfriend, Julia. I watched and waited to feel relief and triumph at this long-awaited moment. Instead, something strange happened.

A wave of nostalgia swept over me. For all my grumbling about the work of Christmas trees over the years (and yes, I have an embarrassing amount), I felt a tug on my heart.

Believe me, I’m more than happy to let this physically demanding tradition go but seeing all the makings of Christmas trees past hit me harder than expected. Silver bells handed down from my Swedish grandparents, a tiny nativity scene from Randy’s folks in Texas, two “baby’s first Christmas” bulbs from my mom and dad, clay ornaments made with elementary school hands, tiny guitars (for our musical teenage sons), souvenirs from trips and life events, and even the worn angel up top—made me wistful. Our life in miniature floated past.

At least there’s good news: these ornaments are in capable hands. Patrick and Julia are a crack team. At one point, Julia took a picture of Patrick hoisting a big tree on his shoulder, bringing it home from the seller up the street. He has the brawn and Julia a lovely sense of design.

Even nicer, this is Julia’s first Christmas tree (she celebrates Hannukah). I tried to subtly warn her about the inevitable rough patches ahead: getting the tree into the stand just right at the perfect angle, making sure all the lights work, and that the fir is evenly festooned all around. You must also strand the garlands evenly and make sure the tree skirt doesn’t bunch up on one side. Fasten your seat belt, I wanted to say. Skirmishes can break out if there’s not enough lights or the tree is too tall.

But a funny thing happened. A few hours later, Patrick texted us a picture from his apartment. There stood a perfect Christmas tree, obviously decorated with love and pride, before their front window. Our old ornaments hung around it, now in their new home, looking beautiful. A holiday rite of passage had happened in the wink of an eye.

To my relief, I’ll now have an easier decorating project than years before. And although we won’t have a formal tree, we’ll have a pretty table top I see in the homes of lots of people our age. They look so beautifully easy and portable. I’ll also do stockings, evergreen garlands, and poinsettias. I might even rustle up a batch of Christmas cookies.

Every year, I have my “Christmas Moment” but this one came unexpectedly early. I didn’t always excel at Yuletide with its long to-do lists, time crunches, and break in routine, but judging by that tree, my son has learned this holiday well.

And that makes me proud…and more than a little verklempt.

 

 

Have you had a holiday tradition passed to the next generation? Comments are always welcome and if you’d like to receive posts by email, just press here.