Twelve Weeks Of Christmas--Week 2--Christmas Memories and Traditions

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This weeks theme is Christmas Memories and Traditions. So, why not write about both!

In my family, for as long as I can remember, it has been a tradition to go to my grandmother's house 2 weeks before Christmas to decorate the Christmas tree. It's a tradition I remember fondly, and have greatly missed in the 3 years since I have been living in Wisconsin. She always calls me the day they decorate the tree when she's pulling out the decorations to tell me how much she's going to miss me that day. Everyone has a ball with their name on it that my grandmother has painstakingly taken the time to scratch off the color over the name, and carefully hand written everyone's birth year. We each hang our own ball, and have a picture snapped of the moment we put it on the tree. After the tree is decorated, we take family photos in front of it and have a big dinner. There's always lots of laughing, and I always liked to sit back and watch everyone during those times. This was my family. These were the people, that no matter what I did or who I became, always loved me, and I always loved them. If I stumbled and fell, they were always there to pick me up and help dust me off.

My fondest Christmas memory is the last Christmas I got to spend with my grandfather. My grandfather was one of my most favorite people in the world. He was a truly amazing person, and I couldn't have asked for a better person to call grandpa. When I was 16, he was diagnosed with cancer. They found a tumor on his brain. We found out the year I graduated high school that he was terminal. He vowed to make it to my graduation, and he did just that. My grandma told me that he was so proud in the stands, telling everyone around him that I was his baby girl, and trying to wave to me as I walked through the sea of faculty to my seat on the football field. He beamed with pride in all of my pictures during my party. He told me he didn't like that I was grown up. Almost 7 months later, Christmas came around. I found out that I was expecting Ethan. The first people I thought to tell were my grandparents. I was nervous, because I was only 18, fresh from high school and trying to find my path to adulthood. I didn't know what to say, or how to say it, so I kept myself quiet for the entire day. We enjoyed family, friends and presents. My grandfather and I sat side by side, exchanging stories of Christmas past, watching the lights on the tree. I remember feeling so comfortable with him in that moment. Not that I'd ever felt uncomfortable before, but then I just knew that I didn't have to say anything about what I was thinking or feeling, and he understood. When everyone had gone, and my grandparents and I were settling down to the dining room table to talk at the end of the night, I told them my news. They were both shocked, but understanding and supportive. The look on my grandfather's face though was just something unexplainable, but I knew just by looking at him that he knew he wouldn't be here when it came time for me to have my baby. He'd put everything he had into seeing me graduate, and there just wasn't anything more for him to give. He made it to March. Ethan came in August. I remember my grandma holding him and talking about my grandfather, and how proud he would have been, and I thought of Christmas. Christmas also just so happened to be his favorite holiday. So, here in Wisconsin, I've carried on the tradition of Christmas balls with names and whenever I decorate my tree, I always think of my family in Arizona, and my last Christmas with grandpa.