by Michael Martucci, Publisher Mid-Hudson News
Since I was a child the Friday following Thanksgiving has been designated as the day my family gathered to put up the Christmas tree, hang the stockings on the mantel, and string lights in preparation for the season—an event we called decorating day. If you are like me, this day can bring more dread than joy with the stress of digging out all of the decorations and wondering once you do, if one faulty light will take out the whole strand.
As a child, I would wonder why my family would look so forward to decorating day. Why was it so important to my grandmother to decorate the banister with as many of her grandchildren as she could gather? Why did my mother care so much about us spending the day with her hanging our ornaments on the tree?
Then I became a father, and I know why. In a lifetime of 70 or 80 years, there aren’t many days like this. Watching my three young children decorate our home for Christmas brought back memories for me. I can specifically recall the smell of caramel popcorn cooking in the oven, my grandfather climbing into the attic to lug down dusty décor, and the anticipation of the joy of Christmas morning. I can’t remember every day of my life—in fact, I don’t have a specific recollection of most of them—but etched forever in my mind is decorating day and all that came with it.
On Friday, I witnessed the same joy in anticipation for Christmas in children’s eyes, and that was something special. It made me think how hard to believe that it’s been 30 years since I was the eight-year-old boy stringing lights on the tree with my dad. It’s equally hard to believe that in the not-so-distant future, I won’t have any young children to string lights with myself. As quickly as one faulty light takes out the whole strand, it’s all gone.
As a dad, I am constantly cautioned that in an instant my three kids will be all grown up. Looking back at my life, I can’t…
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