It's never taken me very long to learn from anything in life that things don't always go as planned. It took me no less than record time to once again come to this realization in having my own house. Especially during the holiday season. Being the Christmas fanatic that I am, my mind quickly filled with grandiose ideas of yuletide spirit in the form of sparkling garland in every doorway, large shiny ornaments hanging from the ceiling, and to top it all off a beautiful live Christmas tree. In the world of a recent college grad though, the term "grandiose" is just something you in hear fairy tales read from atop the corporate ladder.
My first Christmas in my new house looks a little more like this: a thin, though still sparkling, strand of garland hung from just one doorway, small trinkets placed neatly on my sparse furniture, and an artificial tree that took no less than five days to fully complete. Yes, it seems my worst fears are coming true. Christmas traditions are starting to become a little different than those in years past. A small collection of newer ornaments have unexpectedly replaced a lifetime of cherished ones that reside at my Mom's house. The funny thing about traditions though is that they are things handed down from year to year, yet it takes a person to make one and pass it down. Yesterday afternoon, with my Mom, stepdad, and grandparents all over to help try and reconstruct my fledgling artificial shrubbery, I realized something. My holiday favorites may be changing shape, but the people who gave them to me never will. And hopefully that strand of garland is the next on the list due for a transformation.
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