For years, my parents have been trying to get me to take boxes of family Christmas decorations from their house back to my place. It was never important to me because I always travel for the holidays. But in 2020, I anticipate that Nick and I will be spending the holidays sitting around the condo as we’ve done since March—only in the holiday print pajamas I ordered from Target.
Also new this year, I didn’t follow the rules and wait until after Thanksgiving to decorate. After the election was called, I pulled out the meager box of holiday decorations that is kept with the golf clubs and leftover cans of paint in the garage storage unit. It was already an emotional Saturday filled with happy (relieved!) tears that grew heavier when I pulled Santa and Mrs. Claus figurines out of the box.
Christmas magic with Grandpa
My Grandpa Nelson was a decorations maximalist. All year, his dining room walls were covered with collectable plates (the kind one would purchase at the gift shop at the Grand Canyon or Mount Rushmore). At Christmas time, every last plate was removed and replaced with a Christmas wall hanging. Every candle in the living room was replaced with a red and green version. A Christmas village was carefully set up in the family room. A beautifully decorated tree stood in the corner of the living room with a train running around it.
My dad is now Grandpa Nelson and he invites his grandkids over to help open the boxes of decorations. My Grandpa never did, though. We would arrive at his house to find the Christmas magic in place. My cousins and I would admire the tree (only time of year we went in the formal living room) and ooh and ahh over the cute shops and homes in the Christmas village. Then we’d go to the dining room for the good stuff—all the things with a crank to play music. I remember my uncle once hollering at us “one at a time!”
One year, I was sitting with Grandpa at the desk in the kitchen. He reached for Santa and Mrs. Claus figurines off the top of the refrigerator. He showed me that when you twist the base on the Mrs. Class, she twirls around and kisses Santa. I loved playing with those figurines.
When Grandpa died, my dad inherited a quarter of Grandpa’s decorations. Let’s just say a quarter of a whole lot is still a whole lot! By some stroke of luck, Dad got the figurines from the fridge.
Every year during the decoration unpacking, I insisted they go in my parents’ kitchen. They did until they came home with me.
COVID accelerates Christmas decorating
Those figurines were the first things I pulled from the box this year. I held them in my hands for a minute, remembering many years ago when Grandpa held them in his hands. I realized how much work it must have been for him to decorate the whole house. I never saw the empty boxes all over the floor. I didn’t even know if he called my dad when he was done to say, “now! Bring the kids over now” or if we just popped in and found the holiday transformation complete.
My dad is the orderly type with a process when decorating his house. The Christmas village houses are stored in their original boxes then packed into bigger red and green plastic boxes. First the fake snow and white lights are laid on the shelves. Then the boxes are opened carefully in the living room. With two hands, the buildings are carefully carried to the shelf and put into place. Then all the accessories—villagers, cars, random snowmen fill in the streets.
The grandkids have all been trained to look but not touch.
Then the tree goes up, careful to fill it in with ornaments. Then the red or green candlesticks are swapped in the living room.
I carefully pulled a small tabletop Christmas tree and a nativity scene—both gifts from my parents—from my box. I reminisced about the Christmas coffee mugs, ornaments and advent calendar my dad’s sister gave me over the years.
I can’t help but wonder if 2020 is the year my own Christmas decorating habits change and I accept my fate and become a holiday décor maximalist like my parents and grandparents.
I still have some work to do. The candles in my living room are still blue and white. I am nowhere near Grandpa’s caliber yet. My one box of decorations is still half full in the dining room. But next time I’m in Minnesota, I’ll bring the rest home with me.
