Christmas has always been more than just a holiday for me—it’s a collection of traditions, smells, sounds, and love, all woven together by one incredible woman: my grandmother. She wasn’t just the backbone of our family; she was its heart.
Since her passing in 2018, things haven’t been the same. We haven’t come together as a family like we once did. But as the holidays roll around each year, I find myself drawn to the traditions she created, the moments she made magical, and the lessons she left behind.
The Tree That Made Christmas Real
For my grandmother, a real Christmas tree wasn’t optional. “It’s not Christmas without the smell of pine in the house,” she’d insist, and she was right. I can still picture the excitement of picking out the perfect tree, bringing it home, and setting it up in the living room.
Decorating the tree was a sacred ritual. My siblings, cousin Mary, and I would all gather around as she carefully unpacked the ornaments. Each of us had our special decorations—ones we’d been hanging for years. My cousin Tim, who was like a big brother to me, would come over just to hang his ornament. That small tradition became a big part of our holiday, a moment of connection that’s still etched in my memory.
These days, I’ve adjusted the tradition slightly. I usually opt for a tabletop tree rather than a full-size one, but it’s still real—because it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without the smell of fresh pine filling the room.
A Manger, Tin Foil, and a Village of Light
The centerpiece of my grandmother’s Christmas decor was always the manger on the mantle. Setting it up was a tradition I loved. She’d cover the back wall with tin foil, creating a shimmering backdrop for the little village of houses and figurines. Adding the tiny lights felt like building a world—a sacred, cozy scene where Christmas felt alive.
Even now, the sight of a manger takes me back to those moments. It wasn’t just decoration; it was a reminder of the season’s deeper meaning, a connection to faith and family that has stayed with me.
Baked Goods and Midnight Mass
My grandmother’s kitchen was the heart of the holiday season. While she made plenty of delicious treats, her nut-filled kolache was something truly special. The sweet, flaky pastry packed with nuts was more than just a dessert—it was a labor of love that filled the house with warmth and joy. I’ll admit, baking her kolache is not something I’ve dared to attempt. Some traditions feel almost too sacred to touch.
But I have tried my hand at recreating her peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies. There’s something about the combination of sweet and salty, soft and chewy, that still feels like Christmas to me.
Then there was midnight mass—a tradition that brought everything together. We’d bundle up and head to church, the air crisp and full of anticipation. Those nights were magical, filled with music, candlelight, and a sense of belonging that’s hard to put into words.
Carrying the Torch
Now, as I hang ornaments on my little tabletop tree or try my best to perfect those Hershey kiss cookies, I realize that these traditions aren’t just rituals—they’re memories. They’re my way of keeping her alive, of honoring the love and care she poured into every Christmas.
Christmas is different without her, but her spirit is in every detail, from the smell of pine to the warmth of the oven. It’s a reminder that even though loved ones may leave us, the love they gave and the traditions they built can stay with us forever.
Final Thoughts
This Christmas, as we hang ornaments, bake cookies, or admire the glow of the lights, let’s take a moment to honor those who made the season special for us. Because in doing so, we keep their legacy alive and remind ourselves of what the holidays are truly about: love, family, and the magic of togetherness.
.png)
.png)
0 Comments