To be honest, those cedar trees were ugly as homemade sin, though it didn’t matter to us. Our tree was always cedar, always too big, and always cut down from their property by PawPaw.

They were the keepers of Christmas for me and my brother. always made sure good memories were made and traditions were honored, no matter what else was happening. My parents were divorced, and my home life was nutso. If you saw those boots you’d know why my 9-year-old self felt like a rockstar when I wore them.īut no, I don’t look back and feel excited when I think of unwrapping years of gifts. Instead, I look back and I remember the spirit of Christmas permeating the very air in my grandparent’s home. Memories of my childhood Christmases flood my spirit this time of year. It isn’t the toys I remember, although the year I got a pair of boots I wanted is burned into the wrinkles of my brain. It was super cheap and I’m obsessed with it. I shared my tree and have it saved to my IG Highlights here. When something brings you so much joy, like my Christmas tree brings to me, life is too short to put off any opportunity for joy.