I don’t scrapbook, y’all.

But I do put up a Christmas tree.

And I can imagine both give you all the feels.

My oldest is seven, and he unwraps an old ornament and holds it close to examine it.

“Mom, remember this guy?”

And I hear the same sentimental tone in his voice that makes my eyes blink away tears.

Memories.

They’re all over this tree. This home. This time of year.

They’re in those handmade snowmen from preschool and in each of our Baby’s First ornaments hung up high, careful not to break.

They’re framed in photographs with Santa; each year, their legs dangling a little longer.

They’re in the lyrics they remember; the wish lists they make; the way they’re already counting down the days to Christmas morning.

But to me, it feels like just yesterday we were taking last year’s tree down. Like time is rushing right on by, and we’ll never get this exact merry little Christmas again.

So, I’m focusing on making the memories:

Baking cookies and seeing the lights and watching movies all snuggled up on the couch. Visiting the nursing home, singing carols, taking every opportunity to explain what the miracle of Christmas really means.

Because I might not be able to give our kiddos everything they’ve circled in the catalog, but I can help give them a lifetime of memories to hold onto.

And maybe hang up one day on Christmas trees of their own.

And I watch the Light of the World put a
twinkle in their eyes as we sing Silent Night.

Yes, sweet boy, I will always remember this.

(Mommys15Minutes, Jaclyn Warren)