The End of a Season
written by: Nadine Brown
I let out a breath, steam releasing in a puff of smoke, thankful that we have found the icon of all holiday decorations…the perfect Christmas tree. Fluffing the branches, the earthy smell of pine scents my gloves and energizes me with excitement for what the season will bring. Of course, it’s oversized and too tall for our living room, but with Griswald enthusiasm, we ask the tree lot attendant for some trimming before they generously secure it to our car for the short trip home. Another year and another holiday tradition has been filed away with memories of all the perfect trees from the past 16 years.
I could over-crowd each nook of my home to look like the aisles at HomeGoods, but it still wouldn’t feel like Christmas until the tree is in place. By December 1st, we are ready for the festivities to begin as we open door one on the Advent calendar. Our traditions are not much different than the majority. Although, one of my favorite traditions is racing to the tree after breakfast to find the pickle. In German tradition, this is only supposed to be played on Christmas Day. However, who couldn’t use a little extra good fortune? Therefore, this has become a daily hunt that tests the biological theory of survival of the fittest within a single family. Our version is more a lesson in poor sportsmanship, using tactics like pushing, nudging, blinding, groping, blatant cheating, and other shenanigans that have likely landed us on Santa’s naughty list…only momentarily, thankfully.
Christmas Day has arrived as if twenty-five days were merely a weekend. I’m awoken with a, “Merry Christmas!” from my daughter, who knows she is not allowed in the living room until I give the all clear. The Christmas tree beacon pulls us together, its branches proudly reaching up in celebration, as we settle in and pass out presents from underneath. The day progresses in a dreamlike state, tugging the heart to enjoy the moment while simultaneously mourning how it will not last long enough. A wonderful day filled with thoughtfulness, silliness, and appreciation secretly shapes memories for each one of us, all similar yet different. These are the moments we’ll carry with us until they seamlessly blend with those that were created years prior. Once stockings are empty, and I can sneak a quiet moment to relax on the couch, I get lost in the soft glow of cinnamon-scented candles and lights as I stare at the tree covered in ornamental memories that accentuates the passing of years and the life I have built.
I blink, and the clock strikes midnight with fireworks shrieking awareness across the world that a new year has been born, while last year has been quietly laid to rest in the invisible mausoleum of time. The holiday season has come and gone once again. What started with anticipation and joyful child naivety, has quickly ended in a solemn reflection of another year lived, another year of dreams unfulfilled, another year of challenges tackled, another year of opportunities wasted, and another year watching my daughter step closer to her own life and further away from mine. I top off my glass of champagne, letting the bubbles dance around my head, erasing my melancholy with each bursting bubble.
The last weekend of break is upon us. We can delay the transition back to our everyday house no longer, as reality looms with a 7am start on Monday. The weekend is consumed in bubble wrap, boxes, and turning my husband into a pack mule to transport bins. The final task, tossing our tree out on the curb. It joins the dead, twisted limbs our neighbors have discarded, as if our street has suffered from the plague. I sweep up the dried needles mixed with glitter dandruff, from ornaments now safely put to rest. As the last strand of lights is unplugged, I close my eyes to remember where it all started. I see my childhood, my family, friends who’ve come & gone, my successes, my failures, and my husband & daughter who hold the spotlight while love, laughter, happiness, and gratitude fill my soul, my life. I smile, ready to start dreaming of the year to come.
- The End of a Season - January 1, 2026
