Our Christmas tree this is year, is ten inches high. It might be difficult for some of my friends to believe this; the weekend after Thanksgiving usually mean my house looks like Christmas exploded inside it.
For years, my son has asked me "What do you want for your birthday or Christmas?" My reply has always been, "Less." I don't want him to worry about buying something for me.
Last year was a game changer. I finished decorating the house, took the dog for a walk and promptly broke my foot. At least the house was decorated until Christmas Eve--in the middle of cleaning the house and cooking for our annual brunch--the unexpected happened: I got vertigo. I don't remember much after going to the doctor except that I told my husband, "you have to do all the cooking and prep." And he did.
Christmas day I kept falling asleep (from the vertigo medication) and all I know was that the holiday survived despite the fact that I was checked out.
I probably would have forgotten about all this except I spent some time this autumn deleting photographs. I stumbled on this one from 2012:
the land that Christmas forgot AKA the after Xmas mess. My little sewing area is in the attic and after the holidays, I would not only have to put away all the decorations but then tackle all the stuff I had moved to the attic to make room for Xmas...which of course became worse if I was doing some last minute gift sewing. It would take nearly the whole month of January to get the house back in order and those memories flooded back as I reviewed old photographs.
So this year, all the boxes of Christmas decor have been ignored. I spent 5 minutes decorating the window from my grandmother's house which sets above our living room wardrobe. Included is a ten inch high Christmas tree that I once used to decorate a doll house for Christmas.
My friend Beth gifted me some small glass birds (I'm an avid bird watcher) and I put them and a few other birds on a teeny tree.
And the funny thing is, I'm happier. I feel absolutely liberated. The Christmas presents are already wrapped, the house is in better order than in years past, and I have more time to think about things that truly make me happy. Today I'll start preparing the cookie dough. Some of the cookies will be served on Christmas; more will be given away to some of the seniors in our neighborhood that have become very attached to Seamus.
I'm not ready to dispose of our regular tree. I might feel differently in years to come and want the whole Christmas experience again. But I wanted to post this to remind myself that it doesn't really matter. This year I don't have to tell Peter I want "less" for Christmas. I gave that gift to myself.
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