Every Christmas from age 1 to 25, my father gave my sister and me a Christmas tree ornament.
He gifted them to honour family, to mark the occasion and to remind of us of the year we had just shared.
Our summers in Maine were marked with a sail boat or a starfish ornament. My love of skiing was celebrated with tiny skis hung on a red ribbon. And the year I began playing guitar, he gifted me a mini guitar I could hang on my tree.
At age 25, my father passed. As luck would have it, I had accumulated almost enough holiday ornaments to fill a whole tree.