Christmas memories

This is a seashell tree made by my mother more than 20 years ago.

This is the first year our grandkids are old enough to realize how precious it is to me. My mom lived on Sanibel Island for several years, and this place is close to our hearts. Our youngest granddaughter is named Sanibel in her honor.

All of these shells were gathered on the island, during back-breaking hours of combing the beaches, usually in the wee hours just before dawn. I can remember taking our flashlights and buckets, proud that we had gotten to the beach before most other shellers. I am probably responsible for most of the orange shells on this tree, as those are my favorites.

Sometimes I feel badly about having them, because they obviously don't belong in Michigan. But then I see how much all of the grandchildren love looking at them, and I love remembering the long walks with my mother. She's been gone since 1994, but she's with me every time I see her tree.