Remember the story of the Christmas shower that really wasn’t?
Even typing it made me cry.
It was all about how a couple of my mother’s friends got together and hosted a couples wedding shower for us.
We were getting married right after Christmas so someone had the super clever idea to make it a Christmas ornament shower.
Christmas and wedding and ornaments and hot chocolate all in one.
So my future twinkling-eyed husband and I made a list.
We invited a dozen or so other couples and everyone was supposed to bring an ornament to help us start our life and our Christmas tree together.
The night of the shower we were so excited.
We wore coordinating Christmas outfits and arrived 30 minutes early to help the hostesses set out the chips and dip and fluff the Christmas tree.
And then we made small talk and sat in the living room and waited for the guests to arrive.
Except they never did.
No one came to our shower.
Not even one.
Later they all told me different reasons why they couldn’t come and it all made sense and I understood.
But in that moment, sitting on that couch with my future husband awkwardly staring at the Christmas tree and the chips and the dip and the ceiling and my hands and anywhere and everywhere except the hostesses eyes staring at us with sympathy….
….it was so sad.
We tried to make the best of it.
We opened the one shower present and oohed and ahhhed over the two cherubs engraved with our names telling each other Merry Christmas. I laughed and ate some chips and gripped my almost husband’s hand like it was a lifeline and tried to pretend like it wasn’t any big deal and that it didn’t really bother me.
But it did.
And so it was that all these years later I stood in the middle of my upstairs, decorating my tree with chalkboards and pom pom ribbon and tin ornaments and snowflakes. I added a chalkboard star and a vintage Scottish plaid blanket as a tree skirt.
And then I went to dig through some of my Christmas boxes to find a few more things to add to the tree….
….and I found this.
A little worn.
A little aged.
But when I saw it my heart smiled.
You see, I was the winner that night.
Because all the while I was eating chips and making painful small talk and groaning inwardly and glancing at the door over and over and over again…
….I was holding the hand of my best friend.
His twinkling eyes never wavered.
It was as if he knew all the years and milestones and joy that stretched out in front of us. And that one day that shower would be a distant memory. And that tucked in among the ribbons and bows and chalkboard ornaments and snowflakes and burlap festooned with pom poms…
….two tarnished cherubs would still be saying Merry Christmas. 🙂
Here’s to a Merry, Merry Christmas to everyone.