A little festive chaos can feel just right in the quiet days of January
I start with photographic evidence: My Thanksgiving decorations haven’t so much been put away as stealthily relocated. The horn of plenty, stuffed with a few forgotten – and now rotting – apples, shares space with a porcelain dreidel, both nudged up against our turkey salt-and-pepper shakers, which appear determined to stay relevant here in January.
As of this writing, my 18-inch-wide buffet also holds three menorahs (one a gorgeous brass from my student days in Europe), and a pile of Hanukkah-blue cloth napkins, almost stacked neatly. It is, in other words, a vintage 2025 holiday hodgepodge.
If this sounds chaotic, it’s because it is – but it’s also familiar. Around here, holiday decorations don’t disappear so much as overlap. They coexist. Thanksgiving slides into December, December drifts into January and January, frankly, doesn’t inspire anyone to make firm decorative decisions.
I tell myself this is temporary; that there is a plan. But I also know I’m not alone. A walk down any local street confirms it: Christmas wreaths still hanging, lights still glowing, inflatable Santas bent over and belly-less, as if they’re a little nauseous from too many cookies and too many glasses of milk. My kids and I used to drive around and make bets about who would have their Christmas lights up the longest – and what month they’d finally come down. July was the final holdout. Maybe that’s where the term “Christmas in July” comes from. At that point, they might as well keep them up for the next holiday season.
I thought I would get some moral support from my neighbor, so I stopped by just a few days before Christmas when my own holiday table looked like it was ready to welcome the Pilgrims and the Native Americans instead of latkes and the rabbi. She and her husband were setting up long tables and layers of beautiful decor for Christmas dinner, all elegantly appointed with her fine china and glasses.
“Oh, I’m very particular, Lisa,” said my neighbor, Rosemarie Tripician of Ventnor. “Christmas is always more decorated than other holidays and even though our home seems bare after the decorations are taken down, the sadness is short-lived because another holiday pops up soon.”
Not everyone keeps decorating the same way forever. For some, the rituals evolve as families grow and traditions shift hands.
“We stopped extensive decorating for Hanukkah once my daughter and son-in-law started hosting for our large family Hanukkah party,” said Deb Drossner, also of Ventnor. “But when we did decorate, I liked leaving the decorations up for several weeks after the occasion. It helped the fun and joy linger longer and made us all savor the memories created.”
Then there’s Anne Eberly of Ocean City, a custom furniture painter and, as it turns out, a true master of holiday decorating. Her creativity and artistry make her the perfect person for it. She invited us over for hors d’oeuvres to view the splendor of her work. Every corner of her home sparkled with lights, candles, nutcrackers and even the sleigh bells I’d given her from Williamsburg the year before. It was such a warm, inviting environment that we didn’t want to leave.
“It all goes up in mid-December and comes down in mid-January,” Anne said. “It takes a week to get it up and a day to take it down and put away.”
Anne stores her Christmas decorations in a dedicated section of the attic, neatly boxed and carefully labeled. “Breaking it down is nothing compared to building it,” she added.
When people finally box up their decorations, it often depends on whether they’re focused on the joy of the season or the return to everyday life. Psychologists even have a name for it – “emotional anchoring” – when objects around the house help us hold onto the good feelings the holidays bring. After weeks of anticipation, preparation, hosting and celebrating, taking it all down can feel surprisingly final.
As for folks who are creative, organized and on a schedule, they put their hearts into holiday decorating. By the time it’s over, they’re fulfilled… and completely spent. Doctor appointments, work projects, unanswered emails, even sending holiday cards to the people who didn’t get one the first time around – all postponed until later. They’re ready to move on.
So whenever you put your decorations away, or when you find a piece of tinsel behind the couch in March, or a gold chocolate Hanukkah coin under an old radiator in April, allow yourself to be reminded of the love and laughter from whence it came. Maybe these holiday holdouts are evidence that celebration lingers. That happiness doesn’t operate on a strict calendar. It’s okay to let a little glow remain.
As I’m packing up our sukkah decorations – another holiday for another time – I think of the Shehecheyanu, the first prayer Jewish people say at the start of every holiday, expressing gratitude for having made it to the threshold of that holiday. For me, it’s a quiet hope that we’ll all make it to Sukkot next year in health and happiness. A small wave of gratitude sneaks in between the lulav (palm frond), low-hanging fruit and the string lights.
And so my buffet stands – Pilgrims, latkes, menorahs – not as a mess to clean up, but as lingering evidence of joy.
Lisa is an advertising copywriter (think “Madmen” without the men), journalist and columnist. Claim to fame: Lou’s waitress for four teenage summers. For column comments, story ideas, or to get on her “quote list” for future columns: redshoeslzs@gmail.com.
