Memories on a Christmas tree

Following a tradition that began with my mother Sonia, I usually set up our Christmas tree right after All Saints’ Day.

It always seemed that after the solemnity of All Saints’ Day, and the spooky trimmings of Halloween, the glow and glitter of the Christmas tree is a burst of hope, joy and good tidings.

I have had a couple of themed Christmas trees throughout the past three decades.

When our son Chino was a toddler till he was about 10, our tree had something similar to the “Nutcracker Suite” theme. It was filled with toys, a theme jumpstarted by my first trip to the US.

It was a working trip, and the first time I had been separated from my husband Ed and my then three-year-old son Chino. I was dying of homesickness, even as I was wide-eyed from my own first trip to Disneyland! It was around Fall, and during a visit to Target (a retail Disneyland to me, too), I saw a pack of Christmas-tree ornaments, all toys. The toys, in bright colors, were lined up in rows, just like the prizes in the bunot-bunot games in children’s parties. They were a delightful sight.

That started my collection of toys as Christmas ornaments — wooden, resin, a few breakables. Christmas really is for children and though my son was attracted more to the gifts than to the ornaments, the tree was like an homage to my active little boy. Maybe it was my way of making up for work-related absences.

Or maybe, it was the child in me I was feeding with glee. The toy ornaments — little soldiers, drummer boys, snowmen, gingerbread houses, horses like those in a carousel — soon had company in miniature Santa Clauses and angels. There was a time I had a Santa Claus collection.

My ‘toy’ Christmas tree, whose ornaments are over three decades old.

Then Chino grew up and my Christmas tree became more sophistica

ted. I had a harvest theme, an all-white theme, a red-and-gold theme. I have even had the privilege of having renowned florists do my tree.

This year, I decided to resurrect my harvest theme— fruits and other flora glazed in gold and red. My harvest theme was a hybrid of Thanksgiving and Christmas. Early this week, my helper opened the Orocan box with the harvest décor and found them to be water-damaged! Evidently, the box was not stored properly. The décor was ruined. My heart broke.

It was the end of an era for me, the harvest-themed era of many Christmases. Those glazed paper and resin ornaments were also heirlooms because they had stood the test of time and themes for over a decade. I just stood there, staring at the box of Christmas mementos that were unsalvageable. Such mercy it is that though mementos can be thrown away, memories can stay on.

I asked my helper to look at the other boxes in storage. In a white box, similar to the ones designers once used to keep gowns, was my trove of Christmas toys, still wrapped individually in Japanese paper.

The toy ornaments brought back a carousel of memories. Of my first trip to the United States, Disneyland, and Target. Of missing my son and hoping a toy-laden tree would make up for my absence (I think it was for two weeks).

They were in pretty good condition despite, perhaps, two decades in storage, though there were chips in some and missing parts in others. I still felt the wonder and childlike glee I felt when I first saw them in Target. They were both eye candy and comfort food for the soul, the way a rush of happy memories makes your heart burst with joy.

Mementos from my ‘harvest’ tree.

Chino proposed to his girlfriend Gi-Anne, a beautiful lady who brings a sparkle to his eyes the way the tree once brought a lightbulb’s glow to his eyes, in Venice early this year. There will be a wedding in the family in the summer of 2025. My little boy is getting married! Well, he is not so little anymore, and it is about time.

So, my tree this year is all about the little Chino whose eyes would disappear whenever he would look at the tree and the gifts underneath it. Maybe putting up the tree that was for his eyes is my way of stalling the future (hello, Chino is 38, but which mom doesn’t find it hard to let go of her only son?).

So for Chino’s last Christmas as my boy (yeah, to me that he is), I am putting up the tree that he grew up with. Maybe, when I take down the trimmings in January — the Santas, the drummer boys, the drums, the horses and all the toys — I will finally come to terms with this new season in my life. There will be a new harvest of joy. A hybrid of Thanksgiving and Christmas, indeed, I am certain.

It will be a new beginning. *