My entire life I have loved the winter holidays, especially Christmas. My family isn't the most religious, but we have always celebrated Christmas and I was taught that it's true meaning lay in spending time with those you care about. But really, we all know it's about decorating the Tree....
When I first moved on my own, I had the tiniest studio apartment, but made a point to steal half of my parent's Decorations and old tree to spice up the place during the Christmas season. I was committed to my holiday decorations, and continued to be during my time there. When I moved in with the BeeJ, we would decorate together - adorable, I know. But last year, my inspiration was lobotomized by my Prozac-induced coma, thus resulting in zero decorations, and even less Holiday Cards sent.
Now, anti-anxiety drug free, and living in a new place, I'm questioning my loyalty to my tradition. My Holiday cards are already written and mailed, but the Tree Sits in my basement, and I can almost hear it weeping my name. But half of my regular, every-day stuff still sits in boxes, unpacked, also crying out to me. It's almost unfair. But the most difficult question to answer is do I really want to take out holiday items just to repack them again in a month? Haven't I done enough packing and unpacking for a while?
So in the end, as with all difficult questions, I made a compromise. My large tree remains squarely in the basement, one more year to wait until it gets to glow and warm my heart again. But my grandmother's old miniature pre-lit tree sits on my counter, near the tiny snowmen on my windowsill, and the tall classic Santa on my entertainment center. It's just enough to make me happy in my new home.
When I first moved on my own, I had the tiniest studio apartment, but made a point to steal half of my parent's Decorations and old tree to spice up the place during the Christmas season. I was committed to my holiday decorations, and continued to be during my time there. When I moved in with the BeeJ, we would decorate together - adorable, I know. But last year, my inspiration was lobotomized by my Prozac-induced coma, thus resulting in zero decorations, and even less Holiday Cards sent.
Now, anti-anxiety drug free, and living in a new place, I'm questioning my loyalty to my tradition. My Holiday cards are already written and mailed, but the Tree Sits in my basement, and I can almost hear it weeping my name. But half of my regular, every-day stuff still sits in boxes, unpacked, also crying out to me. It's almost unfair. But the most difficult question to answer is do I really want to take out holiday items just to repack them again in a month? Haven't I done enough packing and unpacking for a while?
So in the end, as with all difficult questions, I made a compromise. My large tree remains squarely in the basement, one more year to wait until it gets to glow and warm my heart again. But my grandmother's old miniature pre-lit tree sits on my counter, near the tiny snowmen on my windowsill, and the tall classic Santa on my entertainment center. It's just enough to make me happy in my new home.
