The Season of Sparkle

Mistletoe, Santas, twinkling lights, and evergreen fragrances—just a few things that awaken nostalgia and spark joy during the Holidays. Yet every year, as Thanksgiving week approaches, a familiar inner promise returns: This year, I’m keeping it simple. No marathon decorating days. No lights in impossible places. No over-the-top displays. 

Still, I remember clearly the years when Christmas decorating was something I eagerly anticipated. In our century old historic home in Chicago’s western suburbs, my inner Martha Stewart reigned in full regalia. Christmas didn’t simply arrive in those days; it unfurled room by room, like a holiday dream. I decorated with purpose and personality, crafting holiday scenes that could have filled magazine spreads.

There was the Irish-themed tabletop tree glowing softly in the sunroom. The living room held a majestic tree dressed in gold and crimson, elegant and traditional. The family room sparkled with a cranberry-and-bird nest themed tree. That one I adorned with my children’s handmade ornaments—slightly crooked angels, popsicle stick reindeer, and paper Santas with cotton-beard smiles. It was imperfect in the most perfect way. And in my husband’s paneled library, a partridge and pear tree stood proudly, a whimsical nod to the classic carol.

Outside, I transformed my vanilla-hued clapboard into a holiday wonderland. The wide front porch draped in thick garlands and cranberry bows, the porte-cochere and entryway outlined with matching greenery. Each space beckoned neighbors to slow down and take in the glow of white icicle lights. Near the double wide front door, I positioned a large wooden sleigh, its driver a plush, jolly Santa, his sleigh filled with beautifully wrapped empty boxes.

Inside, the décor continued its joyful takeover. Mantels and tabletops in the formal rooms held Santas in every personality and profession imaginable: Motorcycle Santa, Irish Santa, Baker Santa, Montana Santa, Santa Kissing Mrs. Claus, Santa Feeding His Reindeer. Each one collected over years of family adventures and milestones. Unpacking them each year has felt like revisiting chapters of life—some funny, some tender, all treasured.

Those were years of abundance for my family and me. All of us were still gathered under one roof, and the four children raced around in flannel pajamas while holiday music filled the house. Decorating our old Victorian wasn’t just about ornament placement, it was about tradition-building and memory-making.

These days, however, life looks a bit different for me. As a snowbird living in a warm state with no children or grandchildren nearby, it no longer seems necessary to unpack the full sleigh of decorations. A festive tablescape and tabletop tree is often just enough.

Yet, wherever my family chooses to gather for Christmas Eve or Christmas dinner, without fail, one of my adult children poses the same question: “When are you going to pass on your Santa Claus collection?”

I smile, calm on the outside while my heart whispers: Not yet. Maybe never. Those Santas carry decades of Christmases, laughter, chaos, and wonder. They are my Christmas past, present, and future, all wrapped in jolly red coats. Each time I unbox them and nestle them in a “just right” resting spot, I’m reminded of who I was and who I still am. 

And so, I answer my children, just as sweetly as tradition demands, “I’m not ready to do that yet.”

Because Christmas decorating evolves—just as we do. Some years a home glitters in every corner; some years the celebration is quieter, distilled. For the magic lies not in how much we display, but in the memories we unwrap—one ornament, one Santa, one Christmas season at a time.

No, I don’t need five trees and a sleigh on the porch to celebrate the holiday season anymore. I only need what sparks joy, warms my spirit, and reminds me why Christmas is important to celebrate.

And that means keeping the Santas just a little while longer. 🎄

Other News

Jack and Lulu Go to the Tree Farm is a winner of Readers’ Choice Book Awards and received a five star review in the age 3 to 7 category.

Both my memoirs: Twice the Family, A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Sisterhood and Twice a Daughter, A Search for Identity, Family, and Belonging (E-books only) will be discounted from Dec. 15-25. They make excellent holiday gifts.

Follow Me Here

Jan. 1-31, Julie will participate in “JanYourStory”, a 31-day writing initiative put on by MemoirNation. It’s a simple challenge: Write 500 words per day. It’s free! Join me! #JanYourStory.

Jan. 28 & Feb. 26, from 1:30-2:30, I will teach a webinar for the Author Learning Center, titled “Essays That Echo: Crafting Personal Essays That Resonate.” Join me online for either date by registering here.

In February, the audiobook for Twice the Family, A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Sisterhood releases. More information forthcoming.

March 3 finds me at the Westchester Public Library in suburban Chicago where I will give a workshop on memoir writing. 

March 13-15, I’ve been invited again to attend the prestigious Tucson Festival of Books as a presenting author in the Adoptee Authors Booth. 

Follow Julie by visiting her website, subscribe to her bimonthly newsletters, and listen to previous podcast recordings where she discusses topics like adoption, identity, family relationships, sisterhood and belonging.

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