The Time to Say Goodbye: Tearing Down Twelfth Night Decorations with Bittersweet Reluctance.
As I sit down to write this, our Christmas decorations are still up, refusing to be taken away. The festive season has come and gone, but the twinkling lights and colorful baubles remain, holding on for dear life like a child clinging to their favorite toy. For me, these decorations represent more than just a fun holiday tradition – they're also a tangible connection to memories and moments from years past.
I've always loved the ambiguity surrounding Twelfth Night, which falls on January 5th or some other arbitrary date between December 21st and January 6th. Rather than adhering to outdated customs or traditions that may feel restrictive, I prefer to forge my own path. However, as much as I'd like to hold onto these decorations forever, the inevitable has arrived: it's time to take them down.
Last year, we cut our tree from a nearby estate, but in recent years, we've opted for one grown sustainably at Willis Farm on top of the downs. Ours is a vibrant tree, adorned with ornaments that tell stories and evoke memories. A wooden goose from my childhood Christmas shop in Banff, Alberta, takes pride of place alongside a beaver nestled in a walnut shell – each bauble a reminder of past holidays spent ranching or exploring the countryside.
As I gaze at our colorful tree, I'm filled with a mix of emotions: joy, nostalgia, and a hint of sadness. These decorations may seem trivial to some, but they hold immense sentimental value for me. Each ornament has its own story, and as I carefully remove them from the branches, I feel like I'm disconnecting from memories that will forever be linked to these festive symbols.
The act of disassembling our Christmas decorations is a bittersweet process. As I dismantle the swag of tinsel that once adorned our banister for two decades, it now finds new life as a grotto in our kitchen arch, accompanied by sprigs of fir, holly, ivy, and hawthorn berries. The tinsel's journey from being a functional decoration to a makeshift chandelier is both surprising and charming.
For me, the festive season has always been about embracing the impermanence of things – acknowledging that each holiday is a fleeting moment in time. As I watch the sparks rise from our lit fire as we dismantle the decorations, I'm reminded that even the most beautiful things will eventually come to an end. However, it's in these moments that we're left with memories and stories to cherish – memories of laughter, love, and connection that transcend the ephemeral nature of the festive season.
With each bauble taken down, a piece of our holiday magic is released into the world, waiting to be rediscovered by next year's festivities. And as I look around at the remnants of our holiday decorations, now in various stages of disassembly, I'm left with the realization that even though we're tearing them down, their essence remains – an embodiment of the joy, love, and impermanence that make life so beautiful.
As I sit down to write this, our Christmas decorations are still up, refusing to be taken away. The festive season has come and gone, but the twinkling lights and colorful baubles remain, holding on for dear life like a child clinging to their favorite toy. For me, these decorations represent more than just a fun holiday tradition – they're also a tangible connection to memories and moments from years past.
I've always loved the ambiguity surrounding Twelfth Night, which falls on January 5th or some other arbitrary date between December 21st and January 6th. Rather than adhering to outdated customs or traditions that may feel restrictive, I prefer to forge my own path. However, as much as I'd like to hold onto these decorations forever, the inevitable has arrived: it's time to take them down.
Last year, we cut our tree from a nearby estate, but in recent years, we've opted for one grown sustainably at Willis Farm on top of the downs. Ours is a vibrant tree, adorned with ornaments that tell stories and evoke memories. A wooden goose from my childhood Christmas shop in Banff, Alberta, takes pride of place alongside a beaver nestled in a walnut shell – each bauble a reminder of past holidays spent ranching or exploring the countryside.
As I gaze at our colorful tree, I'm filled with a mix of emotions: joy, nostalgia, and a hint of sadness. These decorations may seem trivial to some, but they hold immense sentimental value for me. Each ornament has its own story, and as I carefully remove them from the branches, I feel like I'm disconnecting from memories that will forever be linked to these festive symbols.
The act of disassembling our Christmas decorations is a bittersweet process. As I dismantle the swag of tinsel that once adorned our banister for two decades, it now finds new life as a grotto in our kitchen arch, accompanied by sprigs of fir, holly, ivy, and hawthorn berries. The tinsel's journey from being a functional decoration to a makeshift chandelier is both surprising and charming.
For me, the festive season has always been about embracing the impermanence of things – acknowledging that each holiday is a fleeting moment in time. As I watch the sparks rise from our lit fire as we dismantle the decorations, I'm reminded that even the most beautiful things will eventually come to an end. However, it's in these moments that we're left with memories and stories to cherish – memories of laughter, love, and connection that transcend the ephemeral nature of the festive season.
With each bauble taken down, a piece of our holiday magic is released into the world, waiting to be rediscovered by next year's festivities. And as I look around at the remnants of our holiday decorations, now in various stages of disassembly, I'm left with the realization that even though we're tearing them down, their essence remains – an embodiment of the joy, love, and impermanence that make life so beautiful.
and I gotta say its pretty deep stuff. like why do we get attached to these things so much? 
and I think its great how people connect things to memories... like my old mobile phone 
still works but I dont use it anymore lol 
. For me its all about making the most of every moment, even when things are getting taken down... you know, like when i declutter my room 
and make space for new stuff 
. I've seen people get really attached to their decorations tho, like they're saying goodbye to old friends 
.
, especially when it comes to sentimental things like christmas decorations. they do hold a special place in our hearts, don't they? 
it's like trying to hold onto childhood, when life is all about growth and change... 
. For me, it's all about finding that balance between nostalgia and moving on. Can't wait to see what new decor trends are coming for next year though! 
The more things change, the more they stay the same... just like our Christmas decorations 
. It's bittersweet to see them come down, isn't it? I mean, on one hand, it's time for new beginnings and a fresh start 
. But on the other, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness when those memories and moments from years past are temporarily removed from our sight 
.
. We can take those feelings with us as we move forward, even when the things themselves are no longer present.
. But I do think that's what makes life so beautiful – all the little moments of joy and connection that make up our experiences 
. So let's hold onto those feelings, even when we can't hold onto the things themselves 
.
Still, it's bittersweet when you gotta take down the decorations, but at least the memories stay.
u got a lot of sentimental value attached to em, but its hard not 2 let go of memories 
. They hold a lot of nostalgia and memories for people, I feel like we should be preserving them instead of just tearing them down 
. But at the same time, I get why some ppl wanna start fresh and try new things every year 
. Maybe we can find a way to keep some of those special decorations around and still make room for new ones 
? Just don't wanna see anyone getting all bummed about it 
It's like they're living on even after the holiday is over