I’m taking down all my Christmas stuff today.
Down come the 40+ year old crocheted
stockings that were my daughters’
and the huge one from Bloomingdale’s
that my son’s godmother sent him 30 years ago.
It was bigger than him then!
Away go the nutcrackers and the snowmen
and Mrs Santa kissing Mr Santa inside a miniature wreath.
I made that thing when my babies were napping,
bead by shiny bead pinned into a styrofoam ring.
And the talking Christmas teddy bear my boyfriend
gave me, the one my grandson calls obnoxious
because it goes on and on and on…
Away goes the little 30″ Christmas tree
and the Nazareth figures underneath it, bowing
around the little Baby Jesus.
And the freckle-faced, impish angel my
aunt gave me. Very collectible, she said.
Away go the jingle-jangle doorknob hangers
and the stained glass star my ex-husband made
before he was my ex.
But I’ll leave the sparkly stick-on snowflakes
on the windows a little longer,
just a few more days.
And I’ve already thought out
my Christmas menu for next year!
Silly me. I’ve always hated saying good-bye.