On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I were dividing four boxes of tree ornaments between us. Kit, now living independently, wanted to set up her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the decorations brought back memories of loss and grief for children who were no longer part of our holiday celebrations.
Over eight years, our family grew and shrank with 23 foster children. Most stays were temporary, and during our fostering period, our two children were adopted. I was amazed to find out that Kit remembered the stories behind each handmade ornament, even for those she had never met. It surprised me to learn that many of her holiday memories differed from mine.
As I opened a box, I uncovered a tree topper that my husband and I received on our first Christmas together as newlyweds. Running my fingers over the crack between its wings and body, I recalled how Krazy Glue held the angel together, much like our failed marriage. Passing the angel to Kit, I wondered if she would want it given its delicate state. Her eyes sparkled beneath her festive reindeer hat as she gladly accepted it.
“Mom, remember how I always wanted to be the one to place the angel on top of the tree? I thought I’d never be tall enough,” Kit reminisced, and we shared a laugh. “You’ve grown enough now, haven’t you?” And so the angel found a new home with Kit.
Another tin revealed a Santa sleigh and reindeer combo, a handmade ornament by an eight-year-old boy we had fostered. Constructed from foam blocks and pipe cleaners at a foster family Christmas party, it stirred mixed emotions in me. His social worker’s unsuccessful attempt to make him a permanent ward after five years in our care left a lingering sense of sorrow and frustration. We were never allowed to see or speak to him again, but we hoped he knew how much we cared for him.
Sensing my shift in mood, Kit took the Santa decoration from my hands and shared her fond memories of playing with it at the bottom of the tree. She pointed out the flames coming out of the sleigh, reminiscent of a movie scene. Just as our foster children preferred watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” over attending church on Christmas Eve.
Creating inclusive Christmas holidays for our foster children was a priority for my former husband, both our parents, and me. We adjusted our family Christmas dinner dates so that the foster children could spend time with their families on Christmas and Boxing Day, ensuring they didn’t feel left out. A tradition of gifting unique ornaments to each child was established, allowing them to keep a piece of our time together when they moved on.
Uncovering a reindeer ornament made of pompoms and pipe cleaners, I remembered my son’s playful nickname for it. Recalling how my former husband and I divided our holiday decorations during our separation, I realized the impact it had on our children, fostering a sense of consistency and love across two homes.
Reflecting on the past, Kit shared how Rudolph the pompom reindeer always found a place on the Christmas tree, offering her comfort and stability during the holidays, regardless of where she celebrated.
This year, decorating the tree holds a different meaning for me. My daughter’s joyous spirit and cherished memories will overshadow any lingering sadness attached to each ornament. I eagerly anticipate seeing her tree come to life.