I looooove decorating the house for Christmas. Nick and I agree that our house looks and feels the coziest during the holidays. Tonight the kids and I opened the five large storage boxes of Christmas decorations and started to deck the halls. They love that I've wrapped most things in tissue paper or old Christmas wrap, so each item is like opening a present. Fisher is at an age where he now remembers decorations from years past. This is how childhood memories and traditions are started. I'm so very pleased that we have established holiday rituals, like the way we decorate the house and all go to get the Christmas tree each year, because I know from experience that a home rich with tradition is a home filled with love.
During the joy of the decorating, my mind can't help but wander... Who will take the time to put out our holiday decorations if I die? Would Nick even want to bring the boxes out of the basement? And if so, who will know that the red berries go in the hurricane lamps, or the Radko ornaments get tied to the dining room chandelier? Will anyone else know that one of our nativity scenes was painted by Nick's mom while she was pregnant with him in Germany?!
The reason these morbid but real questions are at the forefront of my mind tonight is because I know my best friend Jenny's family had to endure this quandary after she passed away from Melanoma three years ago. Jenny loved Christmas and decorated her house like I do. There are lots of decorations and every item has a certain place. I know that even after she was gone, her two kiddos still expected and needed their traditions. Of course her family took over and did a great job, but still, I'm sure it wasn't exactly the way Jenny would have done it.
I can't even imagine someone else putting up our decorations or experiencing the joy of my children rummaging through the boxes. I have to think, is this my last Christmas? That's one of the many evil parts of a (Stage 3) cancer diagnosis. It sneaks up and puts thoughts in your head that you don't dare say aloud. I'm hoping that writing about it here gets it out of my mind. Of course I have MANY Christmases and birthdays and years ahead of me. Positive thinking. Yes, positive thinking. Shoo evil thoughts, shoo.
No more somber thoughts, at least tonight. I need to get back to my velvet bows and sparkly Santas and maybe hot chocolate spiked with a Xanex.