home is, indeed, where the heart is...

I just finished decorating for Christmas and it went a lot better than it did last year. We were new to the house then and there was a lot going on. My Dad was very sick and we had a troubled teenage niece living with us. All I really wanted to do was go to Colorado and help take care of my Dad, but, that wasn’t to be, so I felt misplaced and sad the whole season. Plus, I missed my old home so much.    

That house was a grand old beauty, bright white with stately columns and two big holly trees in front. And, how that house came alive at Christmas time! The rooms were big, colorfully painted, with 13’ ceilings and Victorian woodwork. We always had three, if not four, Christmas trees, decorated in different themes. There were eight painstakingly restored wooden mantels, also adorned in different themes. There was the “angel mantel,” the “nutcracker mantel” and the “Santa mantel” where the stockings hung. The front door was adorned with a huge glittering gold wreath; another hung from the cantilever porch above. It was a holiday wonderland, replete, perfect and filled with so many memories…26 years-worth of happy Christmas memories.   

Our current home is simple and small – a cozy, well-built log cabin in the forest on the lake. And, while it is a pretty place, “replete” is not a word that would ever apply. The glory here comes from the surroundings, not the home’s scope or spaces.

Last year I tried to make the decorations that graced our old home fit our new house and it didn’t work – not by any stretch. The 10’ artificial tree looked bent and sad, trying to fit into the sunroom, which seemed to be the only place for a tree. The little white tree looked gloomy and odd in the dark downstairs TV room. The angels clearly missed their mantel, looking less than serene all haphazardly stashed on a small round living room table. The Santas, upon being placed on their equally small shelf, seemed to lack their customary cheer. Only one of the resplendent glittering gold wreaths could be used and it looked profoundly out of place.

Seeing these failures made me leave the rest of the decorations in their bins. Enough! It wasn’t a very cheery Christmas anyway….

My Dad passed in February, which left a hole in our hearts that will never be filled. Our niece went back to her family in California in March. And so far, this year’s holiday season seems much calmer. Of course, I miss my Dad so much – he was a real Christmas kind of guy – lots of lights, a big yard display and a train choo-chooiong around the base of his Christmas tree – we are now settled in to our lake life and new home. I still miss my wonderful old home, sometimes, especially during the holidays,

My holiday decorating mission was different this year. The things that have no sentimental meaning or that clearly don’t fit in our new space will be donated. So, too, will any Santas or angels who seem, again this year, to be uncomfortable in their new, much more humble surroundings. I understand that they may want to take their chances at the Goodwill, hoping to find another more spectacular home, perhaps even with mantels, to grace. Bearing no ill will, I would pack them away gently, donate them and wish them well.

This turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. The 10’ artificial tree looks magnificent again, this time in Mr. Clark’s recently added outdoor kitchen. You can see it from the lake and it looks cheery, indeed. We got a pretty little Norfolk pine at a local tree farm to grace the sunroom. The guest cottage deck also sports a festive live tree, adorned with tiny solar-powered lights. And, that sad little white tree looks just fine, now that the TV room has been repainted. There were a few ornaments that no longer fit  the much smaller sunroom tree, and a few decorations that seemed to cop an attitude as I unpacked them, so to the Goodwill they go, along with that pair of glittering gold wreaths that clearly have no place here.

I hung a simple, sweet smelling Pine wreath on the front door and it looks just perfect with a simple red bow and a few festive Pinecone and berry picks. The stairway rail to the loft shines bright with an almost but not quite tacky display of shiny Christmas balls and the addition of candles in the windows makes it all look even more inviting.

As for the Santas and angels? Maybe it’s my attitude, or their placement in thoughtful, more appropriate, if still small spaces – whatever it is, they seem content this year. Not one single volunteer stepped forward to take a chance on regaining past glory via a trip to the Goodwill.

The lesson? Home truly is where the heart is; last year my heart was not in this house. What a difference a year makes, both in good and very sad ways. This home will never be my old spectacular and most beloved home; I will probably always miss that grand old beauty at Christmas time. I know I will always miss my Pop. But our new home is warm and cozy and so much easier to manage. As time goes on, we will make more happy memories here. This house may be small, but it has a great capacity to hold love…  

I’m glad the Santas and angels decided to stay. I would’ve missed them and they, I do believe, would’ve missed us, as well, because for them, as for us, home, whether it’s a fine, roomy, antique mantel or a small round table near a wood stove, is truly where the heart is.