A few years ago I had this brilliant idea, not to say that it was the only ‘brilliant’ I’ve ever had, more implying, in my own sarcastic way, that it might not have been all that bright of an idea.
I have this fixation on leaving my grandchildren something more tangible than just memories. I remembered how, when my kids were small, I started to buy them a Christmas ornament every year, a start for their tree once they left home. It was a late start, so their collection was not that extensive.
When the grandchildren count was up to four, I decided to do the same for them. This time though, I was going to make the ornaments, to make them more of a keepsake.
I went back to the beginning, to my first grandchild, and made an ornament for each of her first three years. Each one was dated, some had pictures. A second granddaughter was born and now I was making two each year, for the next three years. Another granddaughter followed, then a grandson the year after and the count was four.
This lasted another three years and then, surprise, surprise, another granddaughter and grandson, born a month apart and the count is up to six.
Four years ago I had some health issues and never made another ornament, until this year. I have managed to create the ornaments for 2011, 2012, and 2013. One more set and I’m up to date. I’ve decoupaged, painted and sewed. And then there were the glass balls I bought for last year and never used, filled with goodies from my beads and baubles stash.
By the time I stopped (for a spell) in 2010, I had created 42 ornaments. This month it was six ornaments times three, and then by seven as I gained a new granddaughter through marriage.
It’s cutting it close, but I may still get the ornaments done for 2015.
I realize now I should have planned this whole thing out better. First I would have set a deadline, like maybe ten each, but then how do I stop for one when I’m still doing for another. Better to just decide on a year, and that’s it, over and done.
I also wish I had picked a theme, and made all the ornaments of the same style, like rustic or country, which suits my family more than anything like Victorian. But it’s too late now; they have a mish-mash of ornaments, theirs to do with as they wish.
Odds are good they’ll remember me for doing this, at least once a year. I can hear them now. “What the hell was she thinking, making all these weird ornaments?”
Oh well, it’s the thought that counts.
Merry Christmas, kids. Love you all.