History.

Last week I was sick so I played catch up around the house this weekend with cleaning and getting Christmas together.  I even put up lights on the exterior!  Wonders never cease. I am not a big Christmas decor nut. I like a wreath and a few simple decorations around the house, but my favorite part is getting the tree up.  We've received a hodgepodge of ornaments through the years from parents, grandparents, friends and from the kiddos.  There's no "theme" to the tree, just a nostalgic mismatch. When I pull the ornaments out of the box each year, I love the memories attached to the ornament or remembering how little the girls were when they got it.  



Maybe the idea of history is the reason I love old homes so much. This house has stood long before us and has held many other families' happy moments.  This year, I placed my favorite photo from our home on our mantel: a photo of a bride being escorted onto our front porch by her father on her wedding day.  

I was thinking a lot this weekend about how beautiful it is to have there shared histories, shared memories, with other people.  Greg & I were at a wedding on Saturday night with some friends we've had since college. And here we are, together, all these years later celebrating someone's marriage, holding each other's kiddos and busting a move on the dance floor.  Remembering how we met, where we've been together and how we've grown together.  
I'm thankful to have small reminders, like Christmas ornaments, to remember the people we have in our lives.   "The world's history is a divine poem, of which the history of every nation is a canto, and every man a word."     -James Garfield