My mom is really good at new traditions. When I moved out, she debated over whether or not to send me with the long, narrow stocking that matched my siblings’, which she’d hung every year for Christmas. She ended up getting me a new one instead to take with me. She’s had to change a lot of traditions over the years. And I never knew her to do it with very much sadness. She’s the one, you know, who keeps foolishly promising me that every stage of life is as wonderful as the next despite my determination to be blue at the thought that my poor children are growing so quickly.
This is a picture of a tradition she started several years ago. One white gift bag for every family of my siblings and I for each day of December. Our kids all have various methods for deciding who gets to open the package every day. Mine have an elaborate process – one picks out the proper date and unties the ribbon, the other takes out the tissue paper for the big reveal. The next day they switch. Jake is – you know – also there.
So today’s ornament is from one of the packages. It’s the Grinch. We also have an older Grinch ornament, so I gave them both some billing.
New and old. I like life to be plenty stuffed with both.