When I was six years old, my sister went away to college. I missed her like crazy.
A few weeks before her Christmas break, she'd always come home to help my mom and me decorate the tree. It became our wonderful ritual. We'd pick out the fattest and tallest Douglas Fir and haul it home in a fit of giggles. My mom made chili - I still die over her chili! - and we'd turn up the Christmas music and get to decorating. Before she'd even think of tackling the lights, though, my mom always poured herself a glass of wine.
It's one of those memories tattooed on my heart.
Isn't it funny how things don't change much? My mom lives in Nova Scotia, and I miss her like crazy. I still pick out the fattest and tallest Douglas Fir. And before I even think of tackling the lights, you can be sure I'll have a tumbler of red in hand!
Do you have childhood rituals that you miss? Doesn't it make you a little melancholy that they're so far away? Or am I just a hopeless romantic sap...
Dreamy little chair found here.
