One of the most satisfying pleasures of Christmas is taking down my boxes of ornaments from the attic and unwrapping memories of past holidays.
The flush of memories, temporarily forgotten, comes rushing back as I rediscover ornaments carefully packed away in old newspapers.
The most emotional unveilings are of ornaments given to me the first Christmas after the births of my son and my daughter. My favorites are a little brown ceramic bear with dangling arms that a sister-in-law made for Andy in 1988. And a pink Hallmark carousel pony with Rachel’s name and birthday, May 4, 1992.
My Christmas boxes seem to have more ornaments for “Baby’s First Christmas” than any other theme. There is something endearing about the birth of a child that prompts friends and relatives to bestow these special ornaments on parents.
And then, in what seems like no time at all, reindeers made out of clothespins and glitter-globbed Santas with cotton ball beards take over the ornament box.
So again this year, a few days before Thanksgiving, I dragged down my Christmas boxes and set them on the edge of my garage.
Andy, now 26, was coming home for the holiday with his new wife, Erin. I thought Andy would want to dig through these boxes and take a few ornaments back to hang on his and Erin’s first Christmas tree.
So on Saturday afternoon, Andy and Erin went out to the garage to sort through the decorations. When I checked a half-hour later, they had set aside a dozen or so ornaments, including those from Andy’s first Christmas.
I felt a real tug at my heart when I saw that little ceramic bear — the one I had cherished almost as long as my son — laying on top of their pile. But I just smiled and said I was sure the ornaments they had chosen would look great on their tree.
A few weeks later, my daughter Rachel was home from Jacksonville to celebrate an early Christmas because both of us will be away with friends for the holidays. Like Andy, Rachel went through our Christmas boxes to find favorite ornaments for her tree in Jacksonville. Even before looking, I knew that the little carousel horse with her name in cursive letters would be in Rachel’s take-home pile.
Letting go of Rachel’s carousel horse and Andy’s ceramic bear was a rite of passage — more for me than for my children. I’ve come to realize that parents go through as many rites of passage as their kids — we just don’t talk about it. We anticipate the transitions as our children grow from infants to teenagers, and all too soon leave home for college and jobs with plans and dreams separate from our own.
And one of those rites is passing along our most treasured gifts, which for me includes giving my children their first Christmas ornaments. And it is with joy that I share with you this, my newest Christmas memory.
Diane Kortus is publisher of The Laker/Lutz News. She has owned the newspapers since 2000, and has been publisher since 2009.
See this story in print: Click Here
