The decision has been made. No new Christmas tree this year. I bandied the idea about—even looked at some of those fancy pre-lit trees. But, I talked to my youngest son, Tyler, who is coming home in a couple of weeks from college, and he said no to a new tree. He wanted our traditional, though far past its prime, spindly Christmas tree. I call it our Charlie Brown Christmas tree, as I have to finagle with the branches to get them not to droop, and have to wedge it back into a corner, forcing all of its branches forward, thus producing a thicker, more luxurious (?) tree.
Now you may be thinking to yourself that if I want a new tree, I should get a new tree, and not necessarily listen to the nostalgic whims of my son. But, I too, had doubts about getting a new tree. And some of the new ones I looked at were really no better than the one I have, once I do a little magic with it. Part of the magic is the positioning of the tree and branches, but the other magic is what fills the tree.
I decorate our Christmas tree as if there is no tomorrow. The branches are layered with ornaments we have received over the years—homemade and store bought share space on a tree that groans under their weight. But the stars of the show are all the decorations that both my sons have made over the years, carefully wrapped in tissue until they are brought out yearly to be placed lovingly on the tree. Macaroni sprayed gold and arranged in wreath shapes, reindeers made from those old large Christmas light bulbs with antlers shaped out of chenille pipe cleaners (has anyone ever really used these to clean pipes?), sleighs cleverly fashioned from popsicle sticks, tissue paper stained glass bells and stars, and pinecones with glitter galore adorn our tree. Of course we have a million other ornaments, each imbued with memories, or just purchased because we liked them. But really, our tree, like yours, is just an excuse to walk down memory lane for a few weeks in the dark bleak midwinter.
As my kids got older, the crafty ornaments started to make way for ornaments that reflected their interests—Pokémon and basketball are at the top of the list, but there are Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, various Muppets, and a musical instrument or two. Now that they are more grown up and sophisticated—these ornaments still make their way to the tree—though not placed in places of prominence as they once were.
In honour of our cat, we don’t put tinsel on our tree, as a choking cat is not a festive thing to see—and as the rest of the members of my family are quite taken with Kitty Bob, I make this exception without much regret. But if that cat does to the tree what he did to the tree last year, one of his lives is going to be threatened. Thankfully a teddy bear took the brunt of his indiscretion and could be thrown in the washing machine, but I was none too happy.
Anyway, on a more festive note, once I wrestle the lights onto my “old” un-pre-lit tree, the rest is gravy. At one time I made my husband do this job, as I found it frustrating. Now I just wind the lights around the tree in a “come what may” fashion, and they actually look better than if I do it carefully. I have learned over the years that by dressing the tree with about a thousand ornaments, those obnoxious wires will quite effectively be hidden from sight.
A Christmas tree, no matter how battered is the repository of memories past, present and future. Maybe next year I will get a fancy dancey pre-lit tree that has all its branches, but this year I will be happy with what I have.