It’s that time again, in fact it’s probably past time. The drifts of needles falling to the floor get deeper every day. Half the string of colored lights inexplicably stopped working and the other half has fallen to the floor. The ornaments have made a slow migration to the top half of the tree as they are moved out of the reach of little hands.

Yes, it is time.

The Christmas tree needs to be taken down.

But, I never want to take the tree down.

I love our Christmas tree.

It’s not the most beautiful tree. While it is of better shape then many we’ve had in the last few years it still wouldn’t be up to snuff in a Christmas tree lot.

But our tree is extra special.

We planted it ourselves not long after we moved into the house, then on the first snowy day this winter we cut it down and dragged it back through the field to the house.

And then there are the ornaments – oh, the ornaments.

They all tell a story, they all hold a memory.

The girls like to sit and pick out their favorite ornaments and then ask me to tell it’s story.

There are ornaments that were given to me by my Granny that used to hang on her tree.

Old ornaments that always remind me of helping decorating her tree when I was girl.

There are ornaments from John and I’s first Christmas together.

Ornaments for first babies ( and second and third).

Ornaments from friends.

And oh so many more, all with their own little story to tell.

This year we added a new story to the tree.

This year was the 100th year that my family (on my Mom’s side to be exact) ate Christmas dinner at the same table together. Five generations of traditions and memories all summed up in one little ornament that will hang on our tree forever. How will I ever get the gumption to take the tree down now?