There came a moment where I thought about not really decorating this year.
Truthfully, it was actually more like a few days.
I had the tree up with lights on it and 4 little vintage putz houses on the mantle and that was feeling like enough.
And it was. For me. For those few days.
And maybe it would have been enough for me for the whole season.
But then there are my children.
And there is this itchy feeling, deep in the back of my head that says “do it anyway. decorate anyway.”
At some point I will stop and sit and ponder.
There will come a moment, somehow (because there always does,) where I will sit on my couch, in a clean and decorated house and everyone will be asleep and it will be just me and the darkness, except for the twinkle lights and the Wonder of it All will hit me. And in that moment I will be inexplicably grateful that I did it.
Even though it was taxing at times.
Even though the mess that it creates for a few days almost beat me this year.
Even though I know that it is just “stuff.”
Still and but. Joy has come to meet me.
And there will come a moment when I stop, and bask in it’s glow.
Christmas has begun.