Christmas readiness

Rachel is going to be in Austin celebrating (or not) Xmas by herself this year. So among the packages I mailed to her today is the ceramic Xmas tree that Grandma Wendland made for me because I would be spending  Xmas alone back in my 20s. I feel great about sending it to Rach, and not just because it eliminates a box of Xmas storage in the basement. She will have the wonderful glow in her house that I have had for close to 40 Christmases. 

As I am realizing, a lot of my Xmas decorations are actually Rachel's: little items given to her in her growing-up years. The nutcrackers on my mantle (not yet sent to her). The little ceramic figurines of Santa and various carolers that grace my buffet. But today I mailed her the nativity figures made of cornstarch that my sister gave her when she was a little girl.

Rachel's Xmas village that accumulated over many years is gone. In truth, it was always my toy. Like the proverbial dad who gets the elaborate toy train for the son, I was the one who played with it. I picked out the houses and stores; I set it up each year; I loved it. But the village no longer had a place in either of our lives. For me, the houses and churches and little ice skaters and carolers required two boxes of storage in the basement, and I no longer had the energy or motivation (or room!) to set them up for a few weeks each year. For her, she recognized that her lifestyle would never accommodate village set-up. So we agreed the village had to go, and I carted the whole thing to the Salvation Army last summer. Except for two houses. Rachel and I each chose one house to keep as a village memento.

 Countess with the Xmas village, ca. 1992