A little less than a year ago, my wife and I moved to a new city. This meant that we left the wonderful, large, 3-bedroom house we lived in back home for a miniscule, 1-bedroom apt. where there's almost enough air for both of us to breathe at the same time.
This meant, in turn, that the nice, big, full 7-foot Christmas tree we always stood in our picture window that faced the street was left in storage, and substituted this year with a pissy little 4-foot Charlie Brown-like tree we purchased at Dollar General for ten bucks.
This would be fine, if not for the fact that my two most prized ornaments are huge, 100+ year old bulbs handed down in my family for generations. I came into possession of both of them when my grandma died in 1989 (my mom already had one of them, and with grandma's death I got the other), and have had at least the one on every one of my own trees as far back as I can remember.
In fact, they were both on my great-grandfather's very first Christmas tree, and he was born in, I think, 1882 or '86. Either way, they're old. One, the smaller, gold one, is about the size, or a little larger, maybe, of a softball. The other, silver, is somewhat larger.
Dangling from the underside (I'd never hang them any further up on any tree, in case they'd fall, which they would do, since they're really heavy) of this particular tree they resemble two swollen testicles on a tiny green penis.
My wife hates the two bulbs, and I have to admit that they are rather ugly, but to have a Christmas tree without them would be hard for me to imagine, after all these years. They're a tradition!
This led me to consider all the "traditional" trappings of Christmas that I own. Most of them are hand-me-downs from previous years and generations, making them all very important to me.
One, as I sit here looking at it on the desk beside the computer, is a jolly, fat Santa. Eight inches of red, white and black painted plaster, he came from my dad's grandma when she died. He always sat on the mantle or on the table next to her rocking chair when I was growing up.
He's been dropped several times over the years, but, being about two pounds of solid plaster instead of ceramic or porcelin, the only result was a resounding thump (and once even a little dent in the floor) . A couple years ago I gave him to a friend, who does ceramics, for cleaning and restoration. He looks nice, but since it's not the original paint that came from great-grandma's house, it's somehow not the same. He's pretty old, too.....maybe 50 years, give or take.
Another is a white, porcelin lighted Christmas tree I inherited from my own grandparents, my mom's mother and dad. It was a gift to them in the early 60s from my mom's sister, who died in 1972. I love the retro look of it, with its little cone-shaped plastic "lights" lit up from within by the light bulb in the bottom.
My own mom used to do ceramics, and I still have two pieces she made when I was a kid in the 70s. One is a smiling snowman holding a broom, the other another lighted tree, this one a few inches taller and more detailed than the one I got from grandma. The snowman, about 13 or 14" tall, has her name and the year 1976 on the underside; the tree has nothing to indicate a date, but I can assume it was made about the same time. She also did a beautiful Santa, about the same size as the snowman (and with an empty bag for candy or small pakcages), which sadly was broken a few years ago.
She also used to do crafts, and made several ornaments out of styrofoam balls, sequins and beads. The last of them finally fell apart beyond repair a few years ago, and I wasn't really all that sad. They were neat when I was a kid, but as I got older they seemed kind of tacky, and looked terrible. Only sad part about ditching them was, well, they were made by Mom, you know?
The Nativity I use is the same one purchased by my parents their first Christmas of marriage, which makes it roughly 38 years old. It's been used every year since. The stable is a little beat up (which only adds to the charm, I think), Joseph's nose is gone, and a couple of the Wise men are a little chipped, but other than that, it's held up pretty well.
A more recent addition to the set are two porcelin pieces, a cow and a calf, added when my grandma died. They, like the ornaments, were there for my great-grandfather's very first Christmas. I have no way of telling how old they are, but they're at least as old, then, as the ornaments, and they look like I bought them yesterday. A tribute to old-time craftsmanship.
Other ornaments and pieces are things I've acquired myself over the years of my own life; the "First Christmas Together" ornament purchased by my wife and myself, my son's (by another marriage) "Baby's first Christmas" ornament (though my son no longer wants to have contact with me, I still put it on every year), the little wicker sleigh I got as a candy-filled gift from a coworker a few years ago....things like that.
Tradition is so important to us around this time of year, and it's not just "cultural" traditions like trees, wreaths, mistletoe, gift-giving and all that.
The knickknacks and paddywhacks of the holiday that each of us owns act as touchstones to our past...our childhood (when Christmas seems to mean the most) and our family heritage.
Being an only child (which made me the only grandchild, too, on my mom's side), I got lots of great things handed down to me from the deaths of my parents and grandparents. I treat them all with love and care because if I broke them, I'm afraid the memories they spark in me would spill out and be lost forever.
As long as we have these portals to the past which we take out every year, the spirits of all the ones we've loved and lost to the currents of time and fate remain with us to celebrate. Every year I welcome them, and when I put them away for another year, look forward to the time when I get to see them again. I enjoy their company.
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