The Houghton Lake Resorter
A weekly newspaper in Houghton Lake, Michigan
MUSINGS OF A HOMEMAKER..Written by me at the age of 28..
The Christmas tree stands in the corner, colorful and lonely. Gaily wrapped gifts no longer gather beneath its branches. The sweet smell of pine no longer remains in the air.
Sadly, shiny bicycles and curly haired dolls have disappeared from view.
The annual celebration of the birth of Christ
has filled our expectations.
Now, glittering and once lovely wrappings lie crushed in empty cartons awaiting their disposal.
Waiting under the tree lies a ribbon of red, reminding us of our passion for loving. Nearby, lie wrinkled bows; blue for the richness of living, gold for the bright rays of learning. For us, the still colorful green bows bring the promise of new life in the coming year.
Now, mixed emotions wrap our package of memories; sadness and laughter, hope and regret, faith and tenderness. Bringing to mind colorful memories of the quickly fleeting twelve months.
1963 has flown away as swiftly as hummingbird’s wings, while never pausing for more than a fleeting moment to enjoy the sweet nectar provided by the flowers of life.
The approaching year offers twelve new months to store more gifts.
Once again, at the end of this new year, we will have a treasure of memories both happy and sad.
We’re starting anew.
The final design will be original, personal and full of colorful hues, shading the months ahead with a rainbow of memories.
Gracious living to you and yours in the new year of 1964.
And now…at the age of 84..
(How times have changed.)
If needed, the sweet smell of pine can always be purchased in a spray can from the store.
Our artificial tree is stored in a box to be retrieved from the storage room each December.
No pine needles are on the floor waiting to be vacuumed. And no shiny trucks hiding in the corner.
There are no snowy excursions to the nearby woods to look for the perfect tree which must be evenly proportioned on at least three sides.
We now delight in flannel shirts and an occasional bottle of after-shave. Perhaps there will be a sweater for me and a current book I’ve been thinking about.
The family is here and that’s the best part of all.
In a few moments the gifts are unwrapped and the shirts are checked to make sure they will fit the intended one.
Paper and bow must be carefully folded and used again next year.
The grandchildren are now in their thirties but determined to spend Christmas morning at the farm.
Looking forward to Christmas morning, our tradition is to have breakfast together, open gifts and visit. It’s a time for recalling all the memories of years gone by.
We now have our sons and two daughters-in-law, a granddaughter -in-law and a grandson-in-law, bringing us three beautiful great granddaughters.
It’s a happy time.
Years ago, we gave our 6-year-old granddaughter a goat for Christmas. We all recall her expression when she found “Peppy” in a special pen in the barn with a big red bow tied around his neck. It always brings a sweet memory and laughter at the breakfast table each year.
The years bring new beginnings.
Our memories become more precious as each year passes. The future is shorter and the time went by too quickly.
One year can bring many changes.
My husband, Don and our son Tim, have passed on to another life. I’m blessed with our three great-granddaughters to love and enjoy in the coming years.
A small artificial Christmas tree stands proudly before the east window.
Sixty years have passed in this wonderful old farm home where memories are enjoyed every day.
Memories Are Made From This
Photographs By Mary Anne Whitchurch Tuck