Holiday traditions are big in our family. These traditions start on the heels of Thanksgiving. One such tradition was in danger this year. Follow me as I explain.

Our family started in the year 1992 when Dave and I were married. It was an exciting time. It was a time to start thinking of traditions. In 1995 we started the tradition to cut down our family Christmas tree. Obviously baby Ryan didn’t have much say about the tree that year or the following year when our family grew again. Almost every town a new member was added and in every town we’d locate a tree farm.

Hats, mittens, scarves and boots were required almost every year. With Dave behind the wheel, the kids tucked warmly in their seats, I’d direct the carols and our holiday season of traditions would begin.

Pulling into the farm the excitement would grow. Anxious, the kids would hop eagerly from the car forgetting their mittens. Snow often covered the ground and their breath came out in puffs of smoke. I can still see their smiling faces. We’d grab a hand saw and start our search. Cheeks grew rosy and short legs got tired. Dave would hoist one on his shoulders and I’d wrap one up in my arms. We left no path untaken as we narrowed our search before finally agreeing. Short needles or long? Fraser fir or scotch pine? Tall and skinny or short and full? Each had their own opinion. When the “one” was chosen, a picture was snapped. With the needles shook out and the tree tied down, we’d head home to decorate and have a celebratory cup of cocoa.

Fast forward to 2015, twenty years of this tradition and as I stated it was in jeopardy.

Every year the tree gets so dry. Every year we battle needles. This year I thought maybe an artificial tree would be the way to go. We could get a taller one to fit the 25 foot cathedral ceiling in the great room. We could get one that is already strung with lights. A tree that won’t have a small critter in it that ended up roaming the house (true story). A tree without a bald spot or misshapen. A perfect tree. We measured width and height. We researched the number of tips and lights. Even went so far as to “add to cart.”

Then the Sunday following Thanksgiving arrived, the day we always went tree shopping. Ryan came home and offered to drive us. 

Arriving at the tree farm I could feel the kids’ excitement. I witnessed their love of a tradition that warms my heart. Ryan spied the first one, next Andrew staked out his favorite. Down through the tree we traveled. Emily ran ahead with our 3 month old boxer bounding ahead of her on a leash. They stumbled and tumbled in a heap of surprise with all of us looking on. We watched, scared to react until she started to giggle. Then big belly laughs erupted and I know we’ve made the right choice.

Here I wish to express a moment of clarity. Dave and I hold back watching the kids. With hand clasped we walked and talked about our tradition. How we thought we’d outgrown it, how it’s not always about what’s easier or perfect.

As I write this letter, our not so perfect tree lights up the room and I notice some of the needles have already fallen. I look fondly at it and see smiling faces. I hear laughter and feel the warmth of love. Love of a tradition that won’t be ending. Love of a season that brings us together. Love of family.

We wish you love, laughter and great memories.