the reindeer

My mom loved decorating for Christmas. Back in the day, during my early childhood, I remember a lot of handmade decorations ~ a braided wreath made of green satin, stockings cross-stitched by my aunt.

Over the years, she accumulated other things, as one does. Faux garlands. A wooden nativity scene. Brass Christmas chimes. A growing nutcracker collection. Holiday pillows and hand towels. A large pre-lit tree. Smaller tabletop trees.

There was a Department 56 village, complete with a library and shops, amber-lit homes, figurines dancing in the ballroom, all on a bed of “snow” and accented with little trees and lampposts. It was a surefire Christmas gift too, to get mom something to add to her little village.

In fact, the year she died, I got her a whole slew of little figurines I’d found on FBMP because, as she said, her scene needed more people. She died Christmas Eve, her favorite holiday, and never got to unwrap those people.

And somewhere, in all of this, were the brass reindeer.

After she died, we were tasked with going through all of her stuff. The Christmas decor alone was daunting. I have a smaller home and a less elaborate decorating style than my mother, and my brother has little to no interest in decor of any sort.

Luckily we were able to pass on some of the other more meaningful things to friends and family. And yet I still found myself with more than one giant bin of Christmas decor from her. Because how do you just donate it to a stranger or throw it away?

And in the years since, this will be the fourth Christmas without her, I’ve drug out the bins each year, gone through the things, and slowly let go of things I’d taken in my grief that I knew I’d never use.

This year, we are down to one bin. And again, I found myself letting go of things. This year it was strands and strands of Christmas lights, not in my color palette. My mom loved Christmas lights, not that she’d light up the exterior as a single working mom, but she loved driving around and exclaiming at their splendor.

It was hard to let them go. But I posted them in my local buy nothing group and someone in the neighborhood claimed them. I didn’t ask her where she lived. I kinda liked the idea of driving around the neighborhood, looking at lights, and maybe unknowingly seeing some of my mom’s lights shining bright.

And I imagine next year I’ll find one or two things more to let go of. My brain wants me to do a final purge and just be done with it.