Between the the whips from the dogs’ tails and the cats sneaking under to drink the water, (because tree water must taste more refreshing), my tree is needing a branch lift. The elf, who thankfully goes home soon, has had his fun in this tree. The garland has a mind of its own. Or maybe it’s because my youngest helped me place it on “just right.” Which of course means I can’t really adjust it or that translates to me not liking how she did it. Moms you know exactly what I’m talking about.
But this year my tree is wrapped in something extra special. All of the ornaments are from my grandma’s house; my last grandma I just lost last year before Thanksgiving. It’s my way of holding on and giving her tribute I suppose. It really seems like yesterday.
My daughter didn’t understand why we were not putting up our normal “family” ornaments. I had to explain to her this is a way mama needed to be close to grandma. And that they will get these same ornaments someday too. Then we cried together.
I did try to find ornaments from my other grandparents. But somehow no one knows what happened to them. That is a whole blog post in itself.