I Already Miss You, Nat King Cole...

Taking the Christmas tree down was a bittersweet activity yesterday. Unlike the evening we gathered to decorate, Nat King Cole and his Christmas carols were silent; no anticipation in my grandson's eyes or the smell of Swedish coffee bread hot from the oven... just memory after memory making me smile as each ornament was lifted from its branch.

After the final ornament was layered in a box for next time, I stopped to look at the star. The lights lit up the ceiling with wings of color, flying me back to a small apartment 45 years ago, when short on money, we fashioned a tree topper out of a wire hanger in our closet, and wrapped the little tinsel we had around its shape. This same star has been the final "cherry on top" of our tree ever since—scraggly, worn but still sparkling all the love Scott and I felt so many years ago. (You can see more about the star here)

I began to reminisce about all the ways Christmas trees have been the backdrop to my life:

When I was about 10 years old, and "Santa" knocked on our front door on Christmas eve with five presents for us in his pillow case bag. It was magical!

And then on Christmas morning, how we had to line up on the stairs, waiting for Dad in his plaid robe to turn on the Christmas music, for Mom to start the coffee BEFORE we could scramble down to see what Santa brought us. Oh, the waiting!

And then there's memories of Christmas past with family...

One's where we welcomed a new grand baby...

or missed someone whose chair was empty that year.

I love that each year when the furnace hums, the candles flicker in the windows, the boxes are brought up, and Nat King Cole once again sings, "Oh Tannenbaum," that all those memories stored for months in the basement, patiently waiting... will again, be the best gift of all.

So with sugar plums dancing around in my head, I thought I would dig out an old "shape poem" I wrote, trying to sum up my feelings of all the memories a Christmas tree holds.

Be sure to stop by this week's POETRY FRIDAY host, Ruth's blog,"There is No Such Thing as a God-Forsaken Town," which comes to us from East Africa today. She shares a lovely winter solstice poem,"Soulful Warming" by Drew Lanham, which reminds us that the light will come back. And boy, do we need that!

Hope your own memories of this past Holiday warm you through these cold, dark days.  Light is coming!