On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I were dividing tree ornaments stored in four boxes. Kit, now living independently, wanted to decorate her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the ornaments brought back memories of loss and grief for children who were once part of our lives during the holidays.
Over eight years, our family grew and shrank with the addition of 23 foster children. Many placements were temporary, and amidst fostering, our two children joined our family through adoption. I was surprised to find that Kit remembered the stories behind each homemade ornament, even for those crafted by individuals she had never met. It was eye-opening to realize that her holiday recollections differed from mine.
As I uncovered a tree topper received during our first Christmas as newlyweds, memories flooded back. The iridescent angel bore a crack between its wings and body, held together by Krazy Glue, mirroring the state of my failed marriage. Passing the angel to Kit, I hesitated, unsure if she would want it in its fragile condition. To my joy, she eagerly accepted it, reminiscing about her childhood desire to be the one to place the angel atop the tree.
Exploring another box, I unearthed a Santa sleigh and reindeer ornament crafted by an eight-year-old boy we once fostered at a community Christmas party. The memory stirred a mix of lingering grief and frustration as we were not allowed to maintain contact with him after he left our care. Kit, noticing my shift in mood, took the ornament, recalling how I always placed it low on the tree for her to play with, appreciating the flames at the back like in a movie.
Our approach to inclusive holiday celebrations for foster children entrusted to us by holding our family Christmas dinner on alternate days allowed them to spend time with their families during the festive season. Establishing a tradition of unique ornaments for each child, we offered them the choice to leave the ornament with us as a memento or take it with them upon leaving our home. This practice preserved the Santa and reindeer ornament made by our eight-year-old former foster son among my decorations.
Uncovering a reindeer ornament made of pompoms, ribbon, googly eyes, and pipe cleaner antlers, I recalled my son’s nickname for the pair as “Big Balls.” Splitting ornaments during my divorce years ago, I had ensured each home had a reindeer ornament, symbolizing the shared memories. Kit’s reflection on the enduring presence of Rudolph on the tree, regardless of where she spent Christmas, highlighted the lasting impact of our past experiences.
This year’s tree decorating holds a different promise as I embrace my daughter’s positive outlook, overshadowing any lingering sadness associated with each ornament. I eagerly anticipate witnessing her unique tree decoration this season.
