On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I were dividing four boxes of tree ornaments. Kit, now living on her own, wanted to decorate her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the ornaments stirred up years of memories and emotions for me, as they represented the children we had fostered over the years who were no longer with us during the holidays.
Our family had grown and shrunk over eight years with 23 foster children coming in and out of our home. Most placements were temporary, and amidst fostering, our two children became part of our family through adoption. I was amazed to see that Kit remembered the stories behind each handmade ornament, even for those she had never met. It was surprising to realize that her holiday memories differed from mine.
As I opened a box, a tree topper from our first Christmas as a married couple caught my eye. The iridescent angel had a crack between its wings, repaired with Krazy Glue, symbolizing the fragility of our marriage that eventually ended. I passed the angel to Kit, unsure if she would want it in its delicate state. To my delight, she happily accepted it, reminiscing about how she had always wanted to be the one to place the angel on top of the tree but was never tall enough. It was decided that the angel would now be part of Kit’s Christmas tradition.
Another ornament, a Santa sleigh with reindeer, brought back memories of an eight-year-old boy we had fostered who had made it at a Christmas party in 1999. The mix of emotions I felt reflected the complexities of our fostering journey, including the heartache of losing touch with a child we had cared for deeply. Kit, sensing my emotions, took the Santa decoration, recalling how I used to place it low on the tree for her to play with.
Our approach to making Christmas inclusive for our foster children was a priority for us and our extended families. We adjusted our Christmas dinner dates so that the foster children could spend time with their families on Christmas and not feel left out. We started a tradition of giving each child unique ornaments, allowing them to choose whether to leave them with us as a memory or take them when they moved on.
Finding a reindeer ornament made of pompoms brought back memories of our divided Christmas ornaments after my divorce. Kit shared her fondness for the consistency of Rudolph on the tree, regardless of where she spent Christmas. Her perspective shed new light on the lessons she had learned from our family’s experiences.
This year, decorating the tree with Kit feels different. Her positive outlook and cherished memories will overshadow any lingering sadness, and I look forward to seeing her tree come to life.