Tree Treasure No. 17: The Christmas We Survived

2020 was awful.
A year I’m sure most of us would rather forget.

The year the world shut down.
The year isolation became normal.
The year toilet paper was somehow a luxury item and fear sat quietly in the background of everyday life.

We wore masks everywhere. We stayed home. We canceled plans. We lost people. Life changed in ways none of us could have imagined.

Christmas that year was just the two of us at home. We celebrated with our kids and their families over Zoom, trying to make it feel festive while knowing it wasn’t the same. I had already lost my mom on Christmas Eve years earlier, so Christmas has been bittersweet for me since. Adding 2020 on top of that made it especially heavy.

One moment that’s burned into my memory is meeting our son masked up, standing outside, keeping our distance. We met our son in a grocery store parking lot and took turns loading Christmas presents into each other’s cars, careful not to pass along germs. No hugs. No long conversations. Just love from a distance and a quiet ache that sat in our chests.

That year deserved its own ornament.

Not because it was joyful, but because we survived it.

This ornament reminds me of the blessings of now. Of never taking a simple hug for granted. Of gathering in the same room. Of celebrating together instead of through a screen. It reminds me how fragile traditions can be and how resilient love is.

Some years don’t sparkle.
But they still matter.

If you enjoy nostalgic holiday stories, I’m also sharing my Christmas memories in a new series called Christmas Stories Throughout the Years.