Our family tradition is to pick out a tree the weekend after Thanksgiving, always on Saturday night, actually, and then decorate it on Sunday. We all love it. Our favorite ornament is the 'climbing Santa'. Each year Eliza and Wilson take turns hanging him from the star. We have ornaments from everywhere we have lived and loved. A moose from Wyoming, a red salmon from Idaho, Santa riding an Orca Whale like a cowboy from Seattle, and mittens and a stocking hat from Park City.
Eliza making a yummy Sunday afternoon treat (check out her cool duct tape belt)
We ended the evening by watching the Christmas Devotional with Grandma. I love Winter days like this.
On a side note, there is a wonderful woman who lives in Park City named Molly. If you haven't already, you ought to read her experience of losing her beautiful, almost-two year-old daughter. She is very inspiring in her strength, and has spent a lot of energy creating a web site for people who need help grieving. (I'm pretty sure that's everyone at some point or another) She asked me to write about losing my Dad. While it is a little uncomfortable to be public with those private feelings, I thought that if anybody ever read it and was helped in their grieving process, then I would happily share. Here 'tis.
2 comments:
Heather that was a really giving thing to do and it was a moving tribute!!
I think that was beautifully written and very honest. I enjoyed reading it.
Isn't it strange the things that are burned in our mind? I will never forget every minute in grandma's house (what the hell was I thinking?) and of you curled up in a ball and crying on our couch. It's unsettling how something can rip through your life so quickly and change the course of everything. Thank heavens for the peace and comfort of the gospel. I don't know where I would be without it. Love you!
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