Memories

So, I spent some of the holidays going thru family photos.  Much to my surprise, I ran across an piece I wrote waaaayyyyy back in 1991 that I thought was long gone.  I take great pleasure in finding it once again and wanted to share it for posterity's sake.  It brought back a lot of memories for me and hope it does for you as well.  Enjoy!

     Christmas is a big deal in our family.  I sometimes think my husband Rick and I await its coming more than our son Justin.  In fact just the other day, almost three weeks before Thanksgiving, we were out driving aound in seventy degree weather , windows down, with Christmas blaring from the speakers.
     We're not the only ones who are pushing things a bit.  It seems the stores put out their trimmings earlier every year.  As we wandered around in these stores through a fantasy of greenery, garlands and twinkling lights, we came upon a platform of gaily decorated artificial trees.
     For the past few years, Rick and I have gazed at these imitations of beauty.  I could always tell the same thoughts were racing through our brains: less fire hazard, no pine needles to sweep, not vacuum, up.  (I learned my lesson on that when I destroyed the vacuum cleaner a few years ago!).   No more being skewered alive by razor sharp points while trying to put on ornaments and lights to strategically hide the bald spots.  Lastly, but most important, no more fighting to keep my balance with my 5 foot 2 inch frame buried in the middle of a 6 to 7 foot tree while my ears are assaulted with the muttered ravings of my beloved, lying under the tree.  "Keep it steady!"  "Pull it towards you!"  "Push it back!"
     Slowly, my satisfied smirk begins to fade as my inner nature begins to rebel.  Before my eyes flash precious memories I will NEVER forget.  My father and I trudging through a half foot of snow in the New York woods where I grew up.  He with say in hand, while I ran from tree to tree, trying to find just the perfect one.
     Back at the house, after we'd shaken off the snow, we'd take it inside and the whole family would decide on the perfect side and spot for our treasure.  As the tree warmed, the heavenly smell of fresh cut pine would entwine itself with the incense of my mother's holiday baking.  My father would string the large indoor-outdoor mulitcolored lights and silver garland, after which all of us would take out the glass ball ornaments, some of us not so carefully, and place them just so on each branch.  Next, the tinsel went on, not in bunches, but with several single strands placed on each branch, to reflect the steadily burning lights.  Of course no tree is complete without the flair of red and white candy canes, at least the ones that made it on the tree and not into our mouths!  Lastly came the final touch of that brightly flashing star on the utmost branch, the reminder of what the season is really all about.  The lights would then be turned out, the tree lights turned on, and our personal fairy land would commence!
      I have tried diligently to keep this special tradition alive and well in my family for eight years now.  I remember the thrill of having my first Christmas tree in my own home.  I remember the first tree after my son was born, my precious bundle strapped into the snuggle carrier in front of my, close to my heart, gazing rapturously at the bright white lights of the Christmas tree lot as my husband and I diligently searched for the perfect tree for our now perfect family.  The cold air was biting our faces, our hands were sticky with pine tar, but our spirits were warm and glowing inside of us.
     The ornaments have changed.  No longer just glass balls, but a mixture of gold plated scenes, unicorns and cats, wooden trains and toy soldiers, a few ornaments we made when we were young, along with the ones my son now makes at school.  The lights are smaller now and twinkle merrily along with the 'reminder' star on the top most branch, but the feelings and the memories are the same as they come flooding back all through our traditional trek.
     Back in the store, my husband says to me, "They're taller this year but they're still not as full as I'd like."  I quickly reply, "They are really expensive."  "I'd like to get one some day." he says.  "Some day." I repeat, as I think to myself, this imitation of beauty can never take the place of the real thing, and the feelings and memories it brings to my home...and my heart.  Merry Christmas, everyone, and may this next year be your best, blessed yet!

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