This is our first really large Christmas tree, and our first tree in an actual home. Kyle has always insisted on having a real tree (who can blame him?), but we’ve never been able to get a very big one, because our apartments have always been rather small. Not this year. Not this house.
There’s something about the tree this year that makes me all tingly and emotional. It’s the first tree that’s been ours in West Virginia and in this new home. It’s the first time we’ll actually be home with our tree on Christmas morning, not separated at our families’ houses and far away from our own place because of traveling. And it’s the first time I’ve ever seen such a huge tree covered in my own ornaments.
You hear stories of young couples who got married and then spent the first few years struggling financially, and in their old age, just laugh about it. I’ll tell you one thing — I’m not laughing just yet.
But, I think I’ve always been good at thinking ahead, so when I look at those ornaments on our huge tree that I made with scraps of fabric, or the one made from a slice the bottom of our first tree together, or the poorly made bulbs from the clearance section, I can’t help but feel like my heart will explode. So much love.
These are the times we’ll remember forever. The days of handmade ornaments and hand-me-down furniture and eating spaghetti o’s. And somehow, right now, I don’t even care. Because just look at that tree.