I took our Christmas tree down on Sunday. I knew it would be difficult. If you’ve ever done it, you know that it’s a “pain-in-the-ass” task. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was how emotionally difficult it would be.
Aside from the usual magic of a Christmas tree and all of the beautiful, warm memories that are created around it; this year’s tree represented something bigger and deeper for me. It became a symbol for what I am capable of, for the life that I am capable of creating for myself and for my children.
Several times while I was unwinding the lights, and pulling the sparkling balls from the branches, I found myself crying. It halted me at moments; but I coaxed myself–remembering that it wasn’t the sad ending of one thing, but rather the beautiful beginning of many things.
I snapped these photographs of Marina in front of the tree a few weeks before Christmas. I’m so grateful to have them, to freeze those precious moments in time. That cute, little tree–that sweet, baby girl.