Making Christmas

In September of this year, my mother moved into a senior community. It was a challenging and necessary move. What was particularly difficult and stressful for Mom was the extensive paring down of belongings and loved collections that simply had to be done. Moving from a sizeable condo to a diminutive one bedroom apartment, made it a necessity. So many beloved items, each with memories attached, had to be considered; artwork and books, crockery and crystal, linens, collectibles, and holiday decor including hundreds of Christmas ornaments.

Many things were offered to family members and it was painful to watch my mother’s spirits droop as so much was gently refused. My brothers and I are already paring down (with this experience being a very real encouragement), and our younger family members are living lighter lifestyles on this planet of ours and/or have different styles and needs. We tried to explain to Mom that the memories she has attached to a specific item, for example a Christmas ornament carefully selected on a European vacation, will not travel with the ornament when passed into the hands of a grandchild. Instead, as “my grandmother’s ornament” it will have new memories attached and will bring back thoughts of holiday gatherings with Grandma when carefully unwrapped in years to come.

Ultimately, we ran out of time and quite a few boxes were brought to my garage, where little by little, they will be gone through and decisions made. In one box were many of my mother’s linens, tablecloths which had graced a much larger table in years past. I told her I would cut and re-hem several to fit the petite table she now has. Last Wednesday I started with her favorite Christmas tablecloth.

As I worked, memories of family gathered around a table dressed with that cloth came flooding back; long dinners filled with candlelight and chatter, paper crowns and laughter, and so much love. I smoothed the linen fabric printed with poinsettias and pinecones under my hands and told the tablecloth it was time for it to make new memories. From the one large tablecloth I was able to make a just-right-sized square, a small table runner for her end table on which her little Christmas Tree sits; and with the remnant left, I was able to squeeze out three small tea napkins.

This is our family’s first Christmas without my father and his absence is keenly felt, most deeply by my mother, of course. Dad loved the holiday season and its gatherings, and my mom took such pleasure in making their home festive and welcoming. Though a man of few words, he always told her how lovely their home looked. This year, her first year living alone, she decorated mostly for herself; and I know with every ornament placed on her tree, with every Santa figurine tucked into the bookshelf, and every sweet pillow placed on her couch, she is thinking of my Dad.

Mom is actually doing very well, I’m so proud of her. She’s making new friends, and stepping outside her comfort zone in so many ways as she participates in her new community’s activities. Tomorrow, in her tiny kitchen, I will be making tea and baking scones for her, her new best friend (99-year old Mary Ellen), and me. The reworked Christmas linens will go with me to start a new life, to play a role in the making of new memories. And, of courses, the making of them has already become a sweet memory for me.