Oh, Christmas Tree

Last night, we decorated our Christmas tree.  It's a beautiful blue spruce we picked out last weekend at Santa's trees.  Tall and thick, with lots of branches.  Almost a perfect tree, really.  Jude strung lights - white ones, this year - on it a few nights ago.  Last night, a Friday, was the first time this week we had a couple of hours free with nothing else going on.

As we unpacked our Christmas decorations, a wave of nostalgia almost knocked me down as I looked at all of our Christmas ornaments.  Many of them are ornaments from my childhood that my mom gave me over the years.  So many memories tied up in so many of the ornaments.  Some she had given as a child and we had hung them together on our Christmas trees at our house growing up.  Some she had given the boys when they were younger.

Damn.  I had no idea how hard it would be to see those Christmas ornaments again.  I hung a few of my favorites on the tree but, for the most part, I sat and watched Jude and the boys decorate our tree.  The intensity of the moment caught me off guard.  It stunned me, really.  Parts of this deal - the grieving process, I suppose - are so hard for me, even now.

My mom loved decorating the Christmas tree, especially when we were young.  I gave her such a hard time when she switched to an artificial tree after we were older and had families of our own.  Our tree always would be haphazardly packed with ornaments on nearly every branch.  There were no rules.  Just hang the ornaments wherever they would fit.  It was the ultimate family event for us.

On occasion, my friend and next door neighbor, Warren Lee Gilley and his sister, Terri, walked over and helped us decorate out Christmas tree.  There mother, Sandra, insisted on decorating her tree just so, with little or no help from her children.  It had to be just so.  At our house, everyone was welcome to decorate the Christmas tree and to hang ornaments wherever they would fit.  It was such a happy time every year.   So much laughter.  So much love.  

And you know what?  Our Christmas tree was beautiful every single year.  A sight to behold, lit up with the lights in the living room turned off, heavy laden with our family's Christmas ornaments.

When I think of it now, as I finish my coffee at Red Bicycle in the Nations, I realize that the way we decorated our Christmas tree when I was a child - and the way my family decorates our Christmas tree - perfectly encapsulates the essence of my mom as a person.

No pretense or formality.  What you see is what you get.  Happiness and laughter.  An openness to others.  And a love for family stronger than steel.

It's going to be hard but I'm going to try to remember that, this year and in years to come.