When Christmas Goes Away...

 Today I entered the space under the stairs, retrieved the empty Christmas boxes, and hauled them upstairs. After watching, A Christmas Story, I repeated the process in reverse. The boxes were heavier than before, stowed were ornaments, nativity scenes, lights, outdoor decor, and Christmas cards. The boxes also contained that Christmas feeling now missing in the front room.

When Christmas goes away.

We bought an artificial tree last year. We set it up and it was okay. This year, we changed the location and it worked so much better, almost as if the space was made for a Christmas tree. Now that it's crammed in a box under the stairs, the space is empty, void of emotion, missing the spirit welcomed into our home for several weeks.

Funny how a slight change of perspective affects everything. We ran errands this afternoon, a light snow continued to fall, and clouds so low visibility was only a few hundred yards. Had we taken the drive last week, it would have been picturesque, quint, festive, a Christmas memory. Today, the sky was grey, overcast, for some...possibly depressing. Such is a post-Christmas world in winter.

It's amazing how some physical items in boxes can change life so much. They're still there, waiting for approximately eleven months until the boxes are opened, the lids are lifted, and they once again bring a message to a room. Yes, taking everything down leaves a hole in the room, which means when Christmas was in the room, it was great.