Dismantling Christmas decorations.

It's hard to know when to let go.

There's no set time to put away Christmas decorations. At some point it just seems to makes sense.

There's no set time to downsize from the house where one raised a family. But at some point, it just seems to make sense.

Today's Guest Post takes a wistful look at both those problems. Ben and his wife, Carol, put a lot of energy into Christmas decorations. Ben Beach is a college classmate. Those of us who are about 74 years old are thinking about the changes we might make as we stop being "young-old" aged 65-74 and become "middle-old, aged 75-84. Some of us will experience the "old-old" of years 85+, but that is a decade off and something to confront later. But for now, what to do about the house? And what to do with all the Christmas decorations if one moves to a smaller place?

Ben Beach is a mostly-retired writer and editor. He lives in Bethesda, Maryland -- for the moment. He is a lifelong marathon runner. He shares the extraordinary record of having the most consecutive finishes in the Boston Marathon: 54.  

Guest Post by Ben Beach

Exhausted Christmas trees keep landing along the streets of our neighborhood, awaiting pickup by county workers. Ours is still inside, on life support, dropping needles at an increasing rate. I should pull the plug.

I always struggle with this annual exercise. It’s hard for me to admit that the Christmas season has come and gone. The little boy in me wants to hear those reindeer hooves on the roof again.

This time, however, the dismantling of Christmas is freighted with extra melancholy. Carol and I are moving. The stairs in our beloved home of 40 years are out to get us. On top of that, does it make environmental and social sense for a pair of septuagenarians—and their aging yellow lab—to occupy 2,700 square feet and a quarter-acre? Our new home will be a ten-minute drive from our youngest son and his family instead of 35.

If I were married to someone else, this January project might be easier, physically and mentally. But my wife, a/k/a Christmas Carol, creates a very special holiday. If you were to open our front door, pass under the mistletoe, and walk into the living room, you’d see a Dickens Village landscape, a spectacular team of Nutcrackers, and 14 stockings hung by the chimney with care. Draped over two doorways into other rooms are garland strands with our friends’ Christmas cards pinned to them.

Christmas also includes Carol’s Chex Party Mix, her egg nog, an Advent calendar, a crèche from my childhood home, snow globes, Christmas-themed china that comes down from the attic, and more.

The attic. That’s where all of the wonderful decorations hang out for 11 months of the year. We have the room up there. The two-bedroom condo we are headed to lacks that space, and there’s not enough room to display Dickens, the Nutcrackers, etc. That means that when we take down the decorations this one last time, they are not going into an 11-month hibernation; some are leaving us forever. Maybe Evan and our daughter-in-law, both Christmas fans, will have room to display some of this stuff in their house. Maybe.

You’re probably thinking: What a baby! Get over it. Move on.

Good advice. I do remind myself that we’re damn lucky to have had 40 wonderful Christmas seasons in this house and that I should be grateful that I reeled in a partner who could produce such a holiday nest.

O Tannenbaum! How many days until we start snatching those ornaments, many marking our kids’ childhoods and a few from Christmas parties I had during college 55 years ago? Not tomorrow. The next day? No, that’s too soon. Your sweet scent has all but faded, and your branches are drooping. But you are still pretty and lovable.

Christmas Carol and I know that the new owner of this property will tear down our home and build something grander. But our last Christmas here will linger; I plan to put the remnants of Tree Forty all over our quarter acre.

 

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