A Chronic Illness Lesson From Beautiful, Broken Ornaments

This fall, my mother gave me a few dusty yellow boxes of ornaments for our Christmas tree. She told me she bought them when she was pregnant with me. So, these little ornaments are over 50 years old and they are fabulous. They are bright and cheery, bold in color and delicate. The package even had a price tag of 79 cents for the box of 12. These lovely things had been sitting in her basement and not used in over 40 years, so she decided that she was ready to give them to me.

I was so pleased to be given these ornaments. I do remember them on our tinsel covered trees when I was a child and remember being told not to touch them. I also remember I was a curious, even back then… and I broke one once while inspecting the beautifully saturated colors. I think that is when they went away to be saved from little fingers and curious defiant children.

Once I brought these gorgeous little jewels home, I wanted to make sure they would survive my hands once again… so I decided that I would make a wreath to feature their charm. I had to make sure the wreath was up high enough that the cats and dog could not possibly knock them over. I found the perfect spot, in our bedroom above our dressers. So, I stuck a very plastic sticky hook on the wall and there the wreath sat. Every morning when I get up, the wreath with its baubles greets me and I smile. It was such a shame these have been hidden for so long. As I passed the day, coming in and out of my bedroom, I grinned each time I saw them sparkling in the midday light.

This morning after a night of no sleep, I finally put myself to bed, and when I was just about asleep, I heard the worst sound… there was a thud, a clink and a bunch of pops. Yes, the wreath fell from the hook, and I was hearing the explosion of thin 54-year-old vintage ornaments in what I thought was their last moments of beauty. My heart sank… I wanted to cry. What a waste. I mean all those years where they were safe but not seen, and I bring them out, only to enjoy them for two weeks. So sad… but my pragmatic self got out of bed and started cleaning up the mess (which, I must say, was impressively littered throughout the room!).

Luckily, not all of the ornaments broke, some were spared, and I was amazed! They had fallen from seven feet up, onto my dresser and then onto the floor… and some of them survived! I sadly swept up the pieces of the broken ones, and I noticed that my dustpan was actually full of the sparkle from the ornaments. These pieces were still so elegant. Even in their brokenness, these ornaments were delightfully sweet. If you know me, you know I have a creative mind… and that mind was immediately going through ideas on how to use these pieces and continue their shining beauty but in another form. Finally, I decided that I was going to try to make resin coasters for next years holiday… yes, the broken ornaments would live on.

A couple hours later, I was still lamenting about the loss, when I decided, I needed to change my perspective on this whole issue. After thinking for a bit, I decided this: These ornaments were like myself. They had lived a safe life, where they did not need to worry about accidents. But they were never seen, they did not do anything and that was just a sad existence. Before my journey with pain, I tried to stay safe, I did not draw outside the lines, I just wanted to be safe… and I was. When I got married and became a mother this opened up my life (just like the ornaments being taken out of their box and being seen). Like the ornaments today, 20 years ago, I fell and I exploded (not literally). I became broken, but not all of me was broken. Through the eyes of my loved ones, I was still beautiful whether I felt whole or not. And out of accepting that my life had changed, I felt beautiful, grateful and happy again. I was ready to move forward through life again… I was ready for the ups and downs of life and I knew I had it in me to accept whatever was brought my way.

So, it is like these ornaments were put in my possession to remind me that I have a choice to look from different perspectives… and today I am grateful for those broken ornaments and the lessons they have reminded me about.