17/12/2025
Ode to a Christmas Tree:
This tree right here. Of all my possessions, this is my greatest.
It stands in the hallway where life passes by without slowing. Shoes kicked off, pillows and blankets dropped from collapsed, imagined forts, arms full of laundry, hopping over the land mines of toys, kids racing past to somewhere more important. And yet it has always stood, waiting.
Every year, we add to it. One ornament at a time. It isn’t fancy. It’s not planned. Just whatever catches our eye when we’re together. A very fragile Peppa Pig smiling. A small, rustic airplane. A hot air balloon here. A glass snowman taped together. Things that wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but mean everything to me.
Each ornament is a planted memory. Proof that we were here. Proof that this year happened.
I can look at them and remember who my kids were when they chose them. The phase they were in. The way they said this one like it was obvious, only to change their mind a few seconds later. I remember where we were standing, who was holding whose hand, the season of life we were in without even realizing it was a season.
This tree doesn’t just hold decorations.
It holds time and memories.
It reminds me to store each and every memory dear to my heart. Not because they’ll last forever, but because they won’t. One day the hallway will be quieter and much cleaner. The hands that picked these ornaments will be bigger, or gone, or somewhere far away living lives of their own.
But the memories will linger.
Long after the laughter fades down the hall. Long after the people who made them have moved on, or passed on, or changed in ways I can’t even imagine, this tree will still stand here, leaning with moments.
I couldn’t ask for a better gift.
My family did this every year growing up and I hope to extend this tradition for generations.
How about you? Are there any family traditions you grew up with that you’d like to continue? If so, please share them!
