We started a Christmas tradition about 7 years ago, right when we moved into the house we are currently in. Each year we travel to Frankenmuth to Bronners Christmas store and everyone picks out their own ornament for the tree. They each seem to represent each individual and once they are hung on the tree they reflect not only who we are as individuals, but who we are as a family. The tree is getting a bit full, we have other ornaments that help fill the spaces, gifts from others, ones we had from before, but the ones that I love to put up the most are the ones that were my grandmothers. Some are from the depression time and many from the 40’s and 50’s. I only put a few up, the plastic ones right now because of the little ones. The glass ones are so fragile and the plastic are a bit more resilient. Each time I put them up, it reminds me of family. It reminds me of a time of having little but having so much. When the whole extended family would get together to celebrate, not just Christmases, but all holidays and birthdays. So much in the world has changed, families have changed, priorities have changed. This year our Christmas may seem to be little in the eyes of the world, but I think I am going to focus on the having so much part. My friends, family, cousins, neighbors, all are what makes me rich. They are what makes me both fragile and resilient.
Sometimes you feel like things just never change; people, government, the city you live in, the life you lead. Then you have children. While all of those things still seem like they never change, they do, they just change more slowly. I still can remember as clear as day the moment I laid eyes on LuLu. She blinked her big, dark eyes at me and I said “Hello”. She kind of reminded me of the baby that Will Smith delivers in “Men in Black”, only minus the extra arms and other squid-like tendencies. She has been such a joy. She wakes every morning filled with happiness and my main objective throughout the day is to keep her that way! She has a heart full of love. Love for her babies, puppy, kitty, her brothers and sister. She likes to draw and carry a purse-or Pack Pack as she calls it. LuLu loves to have her skin so ever gently touched and tickled, just like Grandpa Boxrud did, and me, too. She picks up a microphone and sings into it and eats lip balm. She loves to Mambo with Dora and listen to the french Muzzy. I hope I can help her become like her namesake, Lucia, who visits her maker everyday and lives for Him and only worries about what He thinks, and not what the world thinks. This entry is less for you, the reader, but more for me, so I don’t forget. Happy Birthday, LuLu. I love you!