Homebodies - Filled with wondrous memories of the past

Details

Published on Saturday, December 3, 2016

Rita Friesen

The Neepawa Banner

Tradition, well, my family tradition, is that the Saturday before the First Sunday of Advent is the day the tree can be set up and the home decorated.

It’s been a process and because I am not alone in any situation, I am going to share how I feel this holiday. Before 2014, Christmas was Ed’s holiday – the music, the tree, the decorations, the food. It was with reluctance that we switched from going out to find the near perfect tree to loving an artificial tree. Tree decorating began with Ed and I hanging the tree; yes, we suspended it from the ceiling – many pets and children and grandchildren made it a safe and wise option. The holiday music would be playing, Ed and I strung the lights and then he sat back orchestrating the rest of the evening. There was hot chocolate and laughter and wonderful family memories. We never decorated the home by ourselves, always family helping. The heritage crèche in a prominent place, the Victorian porcelain choir, the horse drawn wagon, filled with people and presents, well, it seemed every year or two Ed found another Christmas treasure. 

2014 was different. Not a good different. We knew my beloved’s days were numbered and so just before Thanksgiving we filled the living room, home of the hospital bed and wheelchair, with all his holiday favourites. Not a tree, but everything else. I left the stuff up, for the family was adamant they were all coming home for Christmas. I did not put up the tree. Nor the year following. I was not using the living room at all, passing through it only to go upstairs for laundry and showers. I was okay with that. A simple set of crèches on the bookcase and a wreath on the door.

This year. This year I have adapted to my ‘new normal’. I am a widow. I live alone. I have a new home. Whatever I choose to do in the line of holiday decorating and customs is all up to me. I did put up the tree. The tree was designed to fill the bay window on the acreage, much too large for my new home, so the bottom section is in storage. A granddaughter was kind enough to help me haul it in from the garage and place it in a corner of the living room. But all the rest was up to me. I have never decorated a tree, or the home, by myself. It’s different. Old favourite baubles remain in the box. Still not able to appreciate the heritage crèche. Still don’t want the choir. I believe I am getting old, for with every item I contemplate putting out, I remember that it will have to be put away! Carols fill the home. Hot chocolate warms me. Candles flicker. I am filled with wondrous memories of the past. I am filled with hope and courage for the future. The sum of my faith.