Sentimental Journey

Packing up the holiday stuff is always a somewhat melancholy event.  It means that the much anticipated events are over for another year and we have quite a bit of cold, dark winter to go yet.  Of course we have Karissa's birthday, and Valentines Day, and such to look forward to, but still a bit sad.

It seemed somewhat worse this year.  It was a collision of many emotions.  The desire to purge that makes you question why you've kept some ornaments that you dislike and never put on the tree for so long.  The realization that this was probably our last "Santa" Christmas, although I'm guessing she may fake it through next year.  Depends on the kids at school, likely.  Another realization that Karina is all grown up and at some point in the foreseeable future she will have her own tree in her own place.

Nothing brings these feelings and more home faster than packing up the ornaments.  Reminiscing over all the ones the girls have made at school.  Over the one I made at preschool.  Will they take the ones they made when they have their own trees?  What about Baby's First Christmas?  Karina has ornaments from Seal, and from other people in her life.  Will those go with her?

We have a slew of applesauce/cinnamon ornaments we made one year.  They are simple and beautiful.  It was so fun to make them together.  Why haven't we ever done that again?

The ornaments that students made me over the years also sparked a nerve.  Karina was in the last fifth grade group I taught in Las Vegas, which means my last "real" class is all grown up.  I've seen a couple on Facebook. I had one seat me in a restaurant.  I've heard news of a few from friends, but mostly they are just out there somewhere.

I loved teaching.  While there is nothing more exasperating than a lesson gone bad or a students determined to disrupt, there is also nothing as magical as seeing the lights come on, lighting the fire, and a dozen other cliches that don't do the experience justice.  I have so many memories of so many students, of events, of successes-- they make me proud.  I also have those memories I'm not so proud of where I didn't do all I could have, in retrospect.  There are a few apologies I owe.

I consider the third graders in Karissa's school "my" kids, in a way.  I've worked with them since kindergarten.  I know who struggles in math or excels in reading.  I know who doesn't have it so great at home, who needs some extra patience, who could use a few friends.  There are first and second graders that I've worked with whom I also feel close to, but not as close as this group.  I know as a parent volunteer I will be around to watch them grow up, but how much I will "teach" them I'm not sure.

Packing away the dreidels and trying to make sure to put them in an accessible box is an annual event. Some years I succeed and some I don't.  I need to know where they are so I can take them for my Hanukkah presentation at school.  Then I realized I don't know if I'll be making a Hanukkah presentation.  I know there are work arounds for communication, but once you've waded into this emotional puddle, it is hard to pull yourself out.

There are also ornaments that were gifts from various people.  Some of those are people whom I dearly loved and are no longer with us.  Tattered and battered I could never part with them.  There is the ornament from my 4th grade teacher.  I never put it on the tree, but I couldn't imagine throwing it away.  There are ornaments that were made by people we are no longer close to, but it seems wrong not to honor the spirit in which the gift was given.

On the upside, despite all my wallowing, we got all the holiday stuff down and packed up and even up in the attic in record time.  Our tree from the Backyard Farmer held up better than any tree we've ever had-- still fresh and green and dropped barely any needles.  It was tempting to leave it up longer, which would have made Karissa immensely happy, but today seemed like the time.

I did part with one whole bag of assorted holiday stuff that hasn't made it out of a box in years.  The sweet Fed-ex person came back and picked up the box with the feeding pumps, so that is out of the house, too. There is still plenty to purge, but it didn't get done today.

Debating between going to watch Miss Lori sing and going to a movie.  I'm still not feeling all that comfortable with watching other people eat and drink, so as much as I want to be supportive, I'm leaning towards a movie.  My neck was wicked sore this morning, so much so that I had to resort to Motrin for the first time in a long time.  Part of me just wants to crawl back in bed and watch another episode of Downton Abbey, but since we have a babysitter, we should take advantage of it.

I can purge tomorrow while I watch the football game from the frozen tundra.  Chad says at least five guys will be shirtless.  What's your guess?