from the forest to the trees

i've written and rewritten these first lines tonight a dozen times, and nothing seems to stick. 

what i want to tell you about is how my sister has given me Christmas trees for years, trees made from candy canes and wood and garland and wire and some laden with snowflakes that in years of wear have lost some of their shimmer. there is a quirky tree that looks as if it belongs in Whoville, (one of the oldest and my favorite) and another with a heart for its star. i want to say how now i have a virtual forest of glittery trees and how each year i walk around the house and try to figure out the perfect place to put them. should i scatter them around or place them together? 

just about now in the Christmas mayhem comes the panic: what have i missed? presents not yet bought, things left undone that may never get done, and i forget that it is like this every single year. every. single. year. 

yesterday i unpacked my trees, placing them on the mantel — a new spot for them. and today, as i bought and wrapped and decorated my mailbox, i realized that i can't make the perfect Christmas for everybody like i tried to do for so many years. and actually, that is not my job anymore. my job is to create the space for family, and to make sure there is good food on the table.

it is probably not related, but this year i put a forest on my mantel, and somehow i seems as if i am finally seeing the trees.

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