Dearest Sylvia:

As we were taking down the tree this morning, I was reminded of Tevye, the Papa in Fiddler on the Roof. He was frustrated with the changes in tradition. I don’t have to worry about that problem because you will see that we “do it right.” I love the way our Christmases have evolved from the family traditions of our families of origin and include elements we have chosen together over the years. Today, we take down the tree now not-so-fresh tree, and sweep up needles because Robertsons grew trees and made wreaths and roping. We have four dwindling poinsettias dropping bracts because Robertsons decorated Michelsen Memorial and St. Mary’s every Christmas. The Dad Rutledge yule log has burned yet another dozen red candles to nubs after its sixty-somethingth Christmas. The ornaments remind us of our children and grandchildren and of many family adventures, from seals to armadillos. Decorations go to the attic, but Christmas stays in our hearts. At this house, Christmas is a season not a day.  We have a certain way of doing things, traditions, and I better not cross Grandma Sylvia if I know what’s good for me; and I do know what is good for me.

There is a traditional pace at which we choose to celebrate the season. You see that we don’t begin decorating until after Thanksgiving. We decorate gradually, and we take down gradually. The tree never comes down until after New Years and the lights not until Charity’s birthday, February 2. The wreath blesses the porch until Valentine’s Day. The “botanically correct” Christmas dishes wear roses and holly until then, too.

We have the tradition of observing family rituals during this season. We have learned to keep the important elements and flex to changes in family needs. We celebrate Advent during the four weeks preceding Christmas. It may not be on Sunday, but when we can gather for a supper or dessert, we light candles, sing, laugh and love. I purr when the seventeen-year-old granddaughter says, “I’m so glad we have this tradition.”  We include cats, granddogs, boyfriends, and Christmas parades with our marching band kids. After candlelight on Christmas Eve, we gather friends and family for the Christmas Feast. And we are surprised by “We Three Kings” played on the bassoon. Cinnamon rolls grace the lovely chaos of Christmas morning. And the we-two quiet is precious when family departs. You and I make sure we get our twosome time in front of the fire. I love the way we celebrate this blessed season. Thank for being our keeper of the flame. I love you.

Eddie