TRUTHFUL THANKFUL THURSDAY

Today’s story is about the truth that surrounds my love for Christmas trees. First, as you know from previous stories, I love Christmas. Honestly, I believe I received the Christmas gene from both of my parents but more so from my mother.

Although I decorated a few trees before Mom passed, the number has doubled and tripled since her passing almost five years ago.  Today as I started placing ornaments on the eighth tree, bits, and pieces of an idea nestled in my heart. Maybe the idea is the start of the reason why I think I do, what I have done, every year since December 13, 2013.

As the bits and pieces glided throughout the day, like a feather floating down from heaven, the picture became crystal clear.  The answer as I like to see it goes like this…

My trees have become like beacons of lights that shine brightly throughout my home. They bring happiness to my family and friends who visit over the holidays and take me down memory lane, each time the plug is pushed into the outlet. The lights sparkling like colored diamonds conjure up both happiness and a yearning for those who reside above the clouds in a place where is no more pain.

In my heart, I believe my trees are my connection to my loved ones in heaven.  Perhaps, my beacons are like the lighthouse along the water’s edge, sending out light to those in the distant.  Maybe, the bright lights emulating from the trees are brilliant enough to be seen in heaven.

In my heart, I like to think that Mom and Dad are sitting around the edge of a big cloud taking in the bright lights of my trees, smiling, and remembering. Sometimes when the wind blows at night, it sounds like their voices, complimenting on their favorite tree. And sometimes when I sit in the parlor with just the lights from the trees glowing, I can almost feel their arms wrapped around me, hugging memories from their hearts into mine.

My beacons are indeed unique to me, with each one telling a story. Stories that I know Mom and Dad would love.  So, to my parents, keep looking down at the bright lights from Nazareth, and I will keep looking up to heaven.

I am thankful for the unconditional love Mom and Dad gave to my sisters, brother, and me.  They made Christmas beautiful every year.  I know now that I am sending my love to heaven through my trees, and that is a lovely thing.

 Merry Christmas Mom and Dad!

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