Christmas Angels

A long time ago, in a far away land. Not really, just our back yard, there was once a couple with children that found it fun to decorate outside at Christmas. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, filled with lights, beauty, happiness and joy all around.

Of course, I would want to do all sorts of decorations and it was so pretty. I wanted my boys to enjoy the Christmas season. Inside, there was always a toss up with colored and white lights. My oldest and I disagreed on the lights for the living room Christmas tree. I wanted white, he wanted color. Crazy enough, now in his own home, he has white lights and now I have color. I haven’t asked, but I wonder if his wife wanted the white lights. The boy cannot win.

Presents are wrapped and some may have a small item in a big box. I have been known to put many wrapped boxes inside one another to make a big box, like those little dolls. It’s fun to buy socks and tie them together with ribbon and stuff in a paper roll. They pull and pull and pull and finally get to the end and look at me. Mom!?! They loved it, as I did. Fun! The magic of Christmas is what I wanted for them and also for me, from young to old, we need to enjoy.

The holiday season brings up memories and I remembered one the other day. I had always wanted those large white, wired angels with white lights and I finally found after searching for years, so I got two. Beautiful angels. We placed them in the front yard for a couple of years. I then had a bright idea. Since I had a big wooden Cross I used in the back yard, by our deck and lit up at Christmas, I wanted the angels to go back there also. Our yard is an acre with a slight grade that faces a two lane highway. The Cross stayed by my deck and I put both angels at the bottom of the yard, facing each other, about six feet apart (social distancing) and each had a horn, almost taller than me. With many strands of light, white lights, of course, we made a pathway open by the angels at the bottom of our yard that led up to the Cross. Another sign that said ‘One Way.’ Anyway, it was beautiful. We did this for a few years, too.

It was when working on this display one cold night, walking up the yard. I walked up the path from the angels to the Cross. It was pretty cool. Half way up our yard, I look over and my husband is on the outside of the path. Later, a few years, we had tried to work on our marriage, I think we both did. Looking over at him, it has just been like this forever, never on the same page, or same path as in this case.

It was when this path of the angels up to the Cross was mentioned to our marriage counselor at the time, of me on the inside and he is on the outside. He tells our counselor that I could have pulled him in the path. Okay, but he could have walked in the path to join me. The path was a resemblance of going to the Lord, to me. End result, neither one of us did anything to change our walk.

After that winter and counseling sessions, the two angels were never lit or used again, they stayed in the shed. The Cross was not lit although it still remained in our yard. I think now it is behind the shed, as he got tired of mowing around it. He put it away so it is probably broken down just like our marriage.

Several years ago, we had a yard sale. The angels were a part of the sale. I could have made money on these two, tall beautiful angels. Many offers were made to buy, even offers to buy out the lady who bought them, etc. I just wanted them out of my sight. To have them even out in the open, brought back memories of many years I would have rather forgotten and not lived through. The lady got a great deal. A loss for me in many ways but off they went to a new home.

The other day when driving through our neighborhood looking at Christmas decorations, I thought of the angels. This back yard scenario will always be a part of my memories or as I see others displayed, I will think of those angels we had once. The lady that bought them is within a fifteen-mile radius and she welcomed me to come see them. Thanks, but no thanks.

I do hope that the two angels bring a joy to their new home wherever they may be and to those that look at them.

The term angel literally means “messenger,” and it is in this prominent role that angels take part in the Christmas story. An angel appeared to Mary to announce the birth of Christ (Luke 1:26-38). … Understandably, images of angels have become a familiar symbol of Christmas.


Wrapped In Love


The holiday season is already emotional at times missing loved ones who have passed, those we cannot see or hug right now due to the pandemic and just the cherished memories that bring the tears that seem like they will not end.

Today, as I was working and minding my own business, I remembered that I had to make a run up to another office to pick up paperwork. As I walk in, the administrative assistant was wearing this pretty, red and cozy sweater. I loved it and told her so. It made me stop and look at it closely and see the weaving of the yarn and admire the red color. I love sweaters and this was one that caught my attention.

Bereavement Gifts - Memorial Cardinal Stepping Stone | St. Jude Shop

As I was getting my paperwork, I overheard her tell the other assistant that it was her mother’s sweater. It was about two months ago that her mother passed away quickly from Cancer and she was the only child to deal with the grief and what memories remain today and through all of the tomorrows. I was so thrilled to hear that it was her mom’s sweater and the thought came, she is wrapped in her mom’s love as she wears it now.

My paperwork is now in my hands and I quietly and quickly leave the office as they remain talking. Normally, I would stop and talk and all that as women do, as I enjoy and have a wonderful work family. I could not talk. I could not leave quick enough and hoping that they would not stop my feet from moving out the door. The tears were falling quicker than I could control as I entered the elevator hoping I would not run into anybody.

Winter Cardinal | Christmas Card | Cardthartic .com

How interesting that such a thing can cause such a flow of emotions. A pretty red, cozy sweater was all it took. Again, the holidays don’t help and knowing next month will be twenty-five years since my own mother passed away of Cancer, also quickly. It all comes back seeing the same sweater that is not one you see often and knowing I buried my mom in her pretty red, cozy sweater (somewhat similar to that shown). The weaving of the yarn, the gentle black yarn mixed in just enough to add to the unique detail and knowing just how soft, it indeed brought back memories of yesterday.

VTG Bramble Lane Red Small Duster Cardigan Sweater Knit Long Sleeve Open Front

“When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.” 
Author unknown

To observe attentively is to remember distinctly. Edgar Allan Poe

Recalling the past can awaken an emotional response. Remembering an event, a situation, or a person can evoke a shiver of excitement, the heat of anger, or the anguish of grief. … Most emotional memories are the result of cued recall. A certain date may trigger an emotional memory such as in the anniversary of a loss.

legend of the cardinal - Google Search | Christmas bird, Christmas poems,  Christmas fun

Story Walls

This weekend, I was attempting to finish a long, overdue task. I was on a break of many, as I did other things around the house. So, I thought I would share as I go down memory lane. Memories can make you smile and laugh and then turn right around and make you feel sad and cry.

The mother in me, I see the angled walls going up the stairs to our finished attic with memories on both sides. Through this pandemic, the attic space has been my go-to in order to do things, plus getting away, but I have wanted to do through the years. This is one of those, out of sight and out of mind places we try to ignore in our homes and ends up as a catch-all of stuff. Still, life moves forward and the project, becomes the thought, maybe tomorrow. Then years roll by just like that. Who knows, my paper all rolled up and protected might be dry rotted. I only bought one double roll long ago so I have no leeway to make an oops. The pressure is on.

Thankfully, I finally have a handle on the attic and it feels great. To organize, give away, pitch made a huge difference, not only in the attic but in me. I don’t want it, I don’t need it, I don’t want to see it so I put my organizational skills to work. Dividing up various items gives me a sense of freedom, and I will continue to do so.

So, before I start on another project of working on my kitchen with stripping the border, paint and have my handyman build in the space over my cabinets, and adding crown moulding, I WILL finish this task first. This makes me push through what I dread. For one, I hate wallpaper. With a stairway, the angle aligning with the steps is a pain so I hate it even more. I’ll say the same when attacking the border and removing. It won’t take long but I have procrastinated long enough. A friend informed me the other day that wallpaper is coming back in style. Nope, not here it’s not.

I grew up in this house and we later bought out the estate when my parents passed. The house is solid and built well. It’s an old house, it has its issues but I would prefer this than the stick built ones today. Concrete block from foundation up with plaster walls. As with the story of The Three Little Pigs, a great big huff and puff will not blow it over. A tornado will definitely do damage but it will not fly away as those newer ones around us, just everything in the attic and inside. So growing up, my sister taught me how to wallpaper on these very walls going up to the attic, which we did together. In that, it was fun being together and learning, it started a trend with me.

As my own family moved in, many years later and we remodeled, painted, etc. I no longer wanted the wallpaper previously hung so off it came. Lo and behold, I forgot that I wrote on the wall with the date (1982) and that she taught me how to wallpaper. That was pretty awesome. My own note and autograph was a nice surprise.

So now, with that being fun to read, I made the bare walls going up a place where my boys could write or draw. I also had them stand on the bottom step and I would mark their height, age and date through the years until they were too tall. With my two boys, they always had friends come over and many stayed often enough that they called me mom so they, too, got to sign the wall. I have many names, dates and drawings. I was in no hurry to cover these walls although it would look better with the carpeted steps. Definitely a conversation piece.

The future of this house, who knows if it stays in our family for a third generation or what but whenever somebody decides to remove the wallpaper, they will be busy reading the notes and dates left behind and continue the tradition hopefully. Today, as much as a chore it is to finish wallpapering, paint would be so much easier. I just cannot do it.

So today, the memories come alive within me as I see the walls. I remember the laughter, the surprise in their eyes and voice and questioning me if they can really write on the walls. Yes! Here is a marker, as they write and giggle. I hope my boys and their friends remember these walls and tell their children a story of the walls and hopefully do the same perhaps in their own home, leaving a mark.

I will cover up the walls and finish this task of my story on the walls with the visible memories that will remain for years to come.

Walls have stories and as the old saying goes, if only they could talk.

In the midst… I had to get wallpaper paste to fix the seams. It’s looking good. I’ll come back and post the final outcome and accomplishment and check this off my list… Thank God.