In my family, Christmas isn’t just a holiday … It’s an obsession. And my mother? She’s the matriarch of mistletoe.
Every December, our home transformed into a living snow globe. We didn’t just buy ornaments, we made them. We didn’t watch Christmas movies, we lived them. We’d cut down our own trees, hand-string popcorn garlands and spend full afternoons debating the correct angle of the angel on top of the tree.
