Significance

We just finished decorating our Christmas tree, and it has Pammie written all over it! For one thing, I have several homemade ornaments from her children, including a little styrofoam snowman and a wreath made of beads and pipe cleaners...note that her kids are now all in their twenties! I remember loving it when she gave out those crafty gifts, because I pictured a perfect Christmas moment of kids around the table drinking hot chocolate. In reality, it was probably more like the projects we do in our house, where Emma usually leaves the table well before we're actually done. When Michael is old enough, I can picture screaming and much fighting over the Elmer's glue.

In recent years, Pam started a tradition of exchanging ornaments, but it had a catch...the ornaments you gave had to have "significance." I jokingly tried to make her define that many times, even though I knew exactly what she meant. The definition was so loose that almost anything could count, as long as you could explain it. The year that we painted garden chairs, she gave me a tiny chair ornament that was handpainted to look just like the one that was in my garden. Incidently, my sister-in-law had the same idea, and so I have several tiny chairs on the tree.

My favorite from my sis, though, is a plain wood ornament, painted to look like an Appalachain Trail sign. We had done some short hikes that year, and we often talked about how cool it would be to do a real back-country hike. I had my husband put that ornament front and center because suddenly, everything she's given me is weighted with significance. Every ornament she gave me has new meaning. Every angel is Pam watching over me, and most importantly, every bell that rings gives Pammie her wings.