One by one the Christmas decorations were hung on the tree. The mood was light, and the smiles were abundant as each ornament was gingerly removed from its tissue paper wrapping inside the ornament box. By the time they were all on the tree, it was quite obvious the tree was getting too small.

Each ornament represented a memory — some vague, while others were clearly defined. Some were from my mom ... some given by friends ... some created by youthful cousins who are now in their 30s ... some chosen especially for specific events or occasions ... some given by family members ... all given with love. The parade of ornaments is always a sentimental stroll down Memory Lane, and we remember, reminisce and recall the moments that caused those ornaments to end up in our hands ... and ultimately in our Christmas ornament box, which by the way, is bursting at the seams.

Some of my favorite ornaments are those given to me by my grandmother many years ago. It was a tradition ... Grandpa would bring home the tree, tied to the top of the old green Chevy. We’d watch from the big picture window as he untied the tree, sawed off the bottom and nailed a wooden stand to the bottom. He’d set it upright, and it always looked perfect. Though we were anxious to begin decorating, Grandpa would maneuver the tree through the dining room door and wrestle the huge pine into the living room, where we’d have to wait for the tree to warm and the branches to drop a bit.