My Turn: Ours is a Christmas tree hung with memories

Thanksgiving is long gone. We feasted, saw loved ones and gave “thanks.” Suddenly, the task is upon us: decorating for the Christmas holiday. The radio plays the old familiar tunes to put us in that “merry” mood. The tree goes in its stand, and I open the first box of ornaments — memories, really — that will adorn our evergreen.

Opening the box where the precious mementos lay, a wave of nostalgia overcomes me. Gingerly taking out the first item, wrapped in crumpled old newspaper or raggedy tissue paper, I find an ornament from my childhood. A round, blue glass orb with “Old King Cole, the Merry Old Soul” pictured on the surface. A twisted metal hook needs to be reshaped to hang it on the highest branch of the tree. It takes its place of prominence, protected from the casual passersby, who may accidentally bump it from its perch to shatter on the floor. Hanging the ornament brings a flood of emotion, memories of happy, carefree childhood Christmases, when I eagerly awaited the arrival of Santa and the excitement of opening colorfully wrapped presents. These feelings are so deeply embedded in my memory that my tummy flutters. I sigh as I hang Old King Cole on the tree.

I reach into the box for another treasure: a handmade cloth-stuffed Christmas bell made by a friend who has since vanished into the byways of life. Her face flashes before me as I recall the laughter and moments we shared. I sigh as I hang the bell on the tree.

Next out of the box is a fragile red plastic bell that once held candy. The plastic frame of the bell, now cracked in places, has a firm hold on my heart; I recall the day it was purchased from a candy warehouse more than 50 years ago. Why did I even save this silly piece of junk, I wonder? Saved year after year, it still finds its place on the tree. I sigh hanging the half-broken plastic bell on the tree.

Then there’s the gold ornament with a photo of my firstborn’s smiling face at only 6 months old. My heart leaps with joy as I reflect on how I couldn’t wait to share his first Christmas and all its trappings and watch him gaze at the wonder and merriment of it all. It was a time when my husband and I as a couple became complete as a family. A tear rolls down my cheek and I sigh as I hang that ornament on the tree.

Soon it’s time for the “travel” ornaments: a wooden, red crab from a trip to Maryland, Mickey Mouse from Disneyland, a moose from Maine and more. These ornaments conjure happy memories of the places we traveled and the people we met. They bring a smile to my face — however fleeting — before I remember how many years have gone by. With a few more tears, I hang these souvenirs on the branches of the tree.

My tree is a memorial and tribute to a life well lived. Each treasured moment has a special place on the tree and in my heart. Of course, there is always room for one more ornament, one more memory. Some may be painful to recall, some too joyful to forget. During the Christmas season, each time I pass by the tree, a different ornament catches my eye — and for a fleeting moment, I recall a memory with a sigh.

 Terri Donahue,

 Center Moriches