Hang up your stocking

My first memory of hanging stockings was bringing our own chosen real-life "I wore this last week" sock to the fireplace, where we pinned them to the twine that was attached by little nails.  I reasoned that if I brought a bigger sock I would get more loot. (I didn't know very much about Santa in those days.) My stocking of choice was definitely of the knee-sock variety. And this is how it went for a while.

Then the Miller stocking tradition started to get real.  My Aunt Kay created the most beautiful sequined stockings complete with our own names and design.  As a child was added to the family so was a stocking.  When we saw our family hanging on the mantel every Christmas season our sense of belonging grew.  Each of us different, but each of us a Miller.  We were a unit bound by forever bonds...blood, love, eternity.

When I got married I wasn't sure what the proper stocking protocol should be.  Should I bring my stocking to my new home, leaving the original 12 and diminishing the size of the Miller clan?  That wasn't right.  I would always be a Miller.  The "Laurie" stocking had to remain on the mantel where it belonged. New Stoker stockings had to be created for the new family that had been created.  My sister, Mary, understood this necessity and made one for Paul and one for me.  Then when Stoker babies started arriving I realized it was my responsibility to provide.  New baby--new stocking. Didn't the Stokers look glorious hanging on the mantel with their cross-stitched names and patchwork red and green?

Then the Stoker babies began to marry and multiply.  What to do now? Well, if they brought their spouse and offspring to Christmas we provided a stocking because Santa would be coming after all. That met the practical Christmas Eve need, but the heart of the tradition was missing. This year I put up a stocking for every Stoker child, spouse and grandchild.  All the humans that belong to me are hanging on my railing.  It didn't matter if they were in attendance on Christmas morning, they are still mine and I want to see their stocking. Because stockings mean you belong...forever....no matter what... and there is always love for you here.

I hope there's a stocking hanging for me in Heaven.