Out with the old...

Today I took the tree down...when Abigail realized what I was doing, she was very sad and asked why we had to take it down. I responded that we had to take it down so that when Christmas came again, we would be able to put up a new one. After a minute of pondering, she decided that was acceptable (phew). I can understand her sentiment, though -- every year I'm always a little sad when the tree comes down. But today, as with every year (and buoyed primarily by the thought of clutter removal in my house), I forged ahead, all the while blending the sweet and bittersweet reminiscences of this year with those of years past and being grateful for the blessings I have been given. I reflected on my saddest Christmas season ever -- in 2006 -- when I was pregnant but having difficulties, and we lost the baby a few days after Christmas. That was a brutal holiday season. I never would have guessed that two Christmases later, we still would not have another little one added to our family. In one sense the sadness of it takes my breath away. In another sense, it makes me treasure my two beloved children even more, and hug them a little tighter, because I realize more fully what an incredible miracle every baby truly is. I reflected on fun traditions we continued this year -- getting our tree and then going to Starbucks together, frosting Christmas cookies with my kids, gradually filling my house with extended family as Christmas Day approached, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace on Christmas Eve, singing Happy Birthday to Jesus on Christmas morning. I reflected on the new traditions started this year -- making a gingerbread house with the kids, making krusciki with my mom, binding a quilt together (Mom, did you know that's a tradition now?!). And then (amidst contorting to look under and between branches to make sure I didn't miss any ornaments, and trying to remember how I wrapped the lights so that I could unwrap them without tangles, and covering the front of my sweater with needles, and dropping a multitude of glass balls and cringing while I waited to see if they'd break on impact), I reflected on the sweet memory of Christmas Eve eleven years ago when Bruce asked me to marry him...wow. And then I paused in the midst of ornament packing and garland removal to admire my sparkling diamond ring in the colorful glow of the tree lights. Not a year goes by that I don't do that very same thing, and somehow I expect to continue that tradition for the rest of my Christmases. The novelty of wearing that diamond solitaire has worn off, I suppose, but I still get a thrill every single day when I look at it on my hand and see it sparkle; and this year has added an anniversary band to commemorate the ten wonderful years we have spent together as husband and wife. With much joy, I reflected on the truth that the preciousness of the man who gave that lovely ring to me deepens with each passing year. My very best Christmas present ever? No question -- the gift of my Savior sent to earth. An eternal gift. My very best here-on-earth Christmas present ever? That one's easy, too -- the gift of my husband...and the beautiful diamond ring he gave me, too. :)