During all the hustle and bustle of this holiday season I’m taking a small quiet moment to miss my Mom. I know I’m not alone. Many of you out there are heading into another Christmas season without a Mom. So I feel bad whining about missing my own. Still, it’s my blog and I can whine if I want to.
Last night I was putting ornaments on the tree. Husband was off to a big box store looking for plumbing parts – no, he wasn’t Christmas shopping for my gift – so I was alone with the tree and a big box full of memories. So much of what we hang on our trees are memories. The ornament from childhood, the one that was a gift from family. As I contemplated the perfect spot on the tree for each I smiled. Mom would have liked these birds in nests…a cousin gave me this box of ceramic ornaments years ago…I remember when my sister and I shopped for these glass stars.
Then I found a box filled with tissue paper, the only ornament inside a glass santa. And suddenly I remembered the last time my Mom was here, just before Christmas in 2003, when we went up to Bronners giant Christmas store and I saw this little Santa ornament. I told her I thought it was like one that her mother always had on the tree years ago. So Mom bought it for me.
This year as I put the little glass Santa in a prime spot, high up on the front of the tree, I felt that old familiar pang. I miss my Mom. And I think about how she must have missed her own Mom all those years after Grandma died, though I never asked her about it. I wish I had.
So this Christmas I hope they’re hanging ornaments on a tree together, reminiscing about Christmas days gone by. And eating Mom’s famous cranberry jello, the one with the big globe grapes and crunch celery.
Merry Christmas Mom. I’m making that cranberry jello again this year. And I’ll be thinking about you.