A recurring question has filled my post-Christmas Facebook feed. Journalists, bloggers and friends have polled in search of popular opinion:
When do you take down your Christmas tree?
My tree? I haven’t even taken out our Christmas trash.
Cardboard boxes branded Hot Wheels, Lego and American Girl have littered our living room for days. Some of them are in the same spot Santa left them. I have a kid who likes to take it one toy at a time. So far, she’s got two in regular rotation.
I’m in no hurry either.
Every decoration that adorns our home this season, including the ornaments on our tree, connects us to moments in time:
A whimsical “Merry Christmas” platter thoughtfully gifted to us at our wedding by one of Jeff’s co-workers.
A handmade table runner won in a highly competitive Dirty Santa shuffle with our Sunday School class.
A ceramic Nativity set crafted by my grandmother and displayed on her mantle during our Christmas Eve gatherings.
Then, there’s a stuffed white bear and a plush pink pig, in my family since 1980-something. The bear wears a beanie, the pig a bib. A Christmas tree accents their attire along with their names, Richie and Priscilla. They, along with a candy cane carrying mouse, create quite a Christmas menagerie on my couch.
The bear and pig were gifts to my mom and me from a family we met through church more than 30 years ago – Charlotte, Danny and their three sons. Charlotte was our church pianist, her husband Danny our music minister. Charlotte and my daddy shared a once in a lifetime friendship, and even when her family left our church, they remained in our lives. Charlotte played piano at my wedding. She also played at my daddy’s funeral.
My friend Lynnea and I share the lingering grief of losing a parent. In a Facebook message exchange last week, she typed something that has stuck with me:
“I feel like people are the best things I have taken along with me from my life.”
People.
Jeff’s co-worker.
Our Sunday School class.
My grandmother.
My daddy and his dearest friend, Charlotte.
People are what have turned my Christmas trinkets into lifelong treasures. Memories are why a serving platter and a stuffed pig matter to me.
I’m not ready to box them into a closet.
So, my tree is still up. My decorations are out.
And I may very well welcome in a new year holding on to all I love about my old ones.
“I thank my God every time I remember you.”
(Philippians 1:3)