Oh Christmas Tree!
I knew it was coming. And when I logged on to Facebook there it was. Someone had already put up a Christmas tree on my friend's list. Now, it wasn't too big of a surprise to me because she told me that her 7 year old son had been wanting to put the tree up since Halloween. She said she was going to try to hold out until at least Thanksgiving but I guess she couldn't do it. And who can blame her? Kids love Christmas and so do I. I love all the decorations the most. I love decorating for Christmas. I loved it when I got my son his first tree a few years ago and he decorated it all by himself and stood proudly next too it for a picture. I can't believe that was almost 6 years ago.
My friend has a huge tree. It was given to her by an older woman who didn't need it anymore. The tree reminded me of how my step grandfather would go on Christmas Eve night, like 10 minutes before the nearest tree lot closed and they were going to pack up and go home and wait for Santa. He was there asking about trees. My sister and I went with him a few times. I think he thought that having a couple of cold cute kids with him would get him a good price. Most of the time it did. So, he would get the biggest tree on the tree lot for about half of what they wanted for him. Most of the time I felt like I was on the let's make a deal show. My grandfather would say I will give you such and such for it and the tree lot man would say well, sir why don't you give me this amount and it would go back and forth until a deal was made. Meanwhile, my sister and I would be shivering in the cold waiting and wishing the deal would be made already so we could go home.
The deal was only the beginning. It usually took four or more people to tie the tree on top of the car to get it home. You would have two people on one side of the car and two on the other side and my grandfather in the back. They would slide and push and pull the tree into place, tie the rope and away we went to my grandparents house.
When we got there my grandfather was usually on his own trying to take the tree off of the car unless a helpful neighbor would happen to see him struggling with it and volunteer to give him a hand. That happened a few times too. So, after a lot of swearing under his breath and about 20 minutes after he drove up in front of the house the tree was down. Now, the hardest part getting a ten foot tree inside a house that only had 8 foot ceilings. Ok, I don't really know how big the ceilings were but I do know that the tree was always too big for the ceiling in the living room where the tree would go. So, after my grandfather would prop the screen open, open the front door he go to the car on the sidewalk where the tree was standing and grab the front end of it and try to drag it in the house. Sometimes we would try to help him but most of the time the tree was too much for two little girls to handle so we were more of a hinderance then a help. But, he appreciated the effort.
My grandmother would come from the kitchen and from the smells that filled the air you knew she was cooking Christmas Eve dinner. Her famous tamalie pie that I couldn't wait to dig into while waiting for Santa. So, she would come out and shake her head with a look on her face like oh no here it comes. So, after a few minutes and a few more swear words under his breath the tree was half way in. Then he would push and pull and pull and push and sweat and cuss and then after a few more minutes he was sitting down resting. The tree still half way in and the front door still open. After a break and a glass of bottled water he would get up and try again. Usually the second time worked and the tree cooperated and he got it in the house. That was half the battle getting it in the front door.
So, furniture in the living room was moved around. Couches were moved closer together, chairs were moved to the dining room and a sheet was placed near the front window where the tree would eventually be for the next two weeks. My grandfather would look at the tree. Then look at the ceiling in the living room and then look at the tree by the front door again. He knew what he had to do. The same thing he had to do every year. He had to find the clippers and cut the top branches off of the tree. After screaming into the kitchen where my grandmother was and asking her where the clippers were he would go to the basement and come up 10 minutes with the clippers and other stuff he found down there and smiling like he had found some lost treasure. Once he brought up some dirty silk flowers that my grandmother put down there years ago. He came up smiling asking her if she remembered them from 1970. He never threw anything away. My grandmother would just shake her head and tell him to throw them out they were no good. He would argue all they needed was to be dusted off and they would be fine.
After the tree was clipped enough to fit inside the living room then the task of decorating it belonged to us, my sister, mom and me. Nobody else in the family would touch it. It was too much tree for them I guess. My grandfather would make two or three more trips to the basement, one to the attic and come back with bags and bags and boxes filled with Christmas lights and decorations from probably the early 60's until present day. We would start at the top with the tiny lights and work our way down until we go to the end of the lights and of course before we went any further the lights had to be turned on to see if they were all working because even though they were tested before they were put on the tree always one string would not work when we put it on the tree and that string would always be at the top of the tree plugged into all the rest of the strings. Most of the time we didn't bother with them if they didn't work they stayed right where they were and of course someone would come over and notice them and remark that all the lights weren't working.
So, it took a long time to put all the millions of decorations that he had for the tree and we were some tired people after all was said and done. That is when we would go home and rest for a couple of hours and return later for some food, some stories, some Christmas jazz music playing on the radio and to wait for Santa which was my grandfather who would disappear upstairs right before midnight and get the gifts and then come down holding the biggest bag I had ever seen filled to the top with gifts for all. Then at midnight we would open our gifts, look at the tree, tell some more stories and leave to return later for Christmas dinner.
I miss those times. I miss my grandparents the most and spending the holidays with them. But, what I don't miss are the huge trees that we decorated every year. Ok, maybe a little.
My friend has a huge tree. It was given to her by an older woman who didn't need it anymore. The tree reminded me of how my step grandfather would go on Christmas Eve night, like 10 minutes before the nearest tree lot closed and they were going to pack up and go home and wait for Santa. He was there asking about trees. My sister and I went with him a few times. I think he thought that having a couple of cold cute kids with him would get him a good price. Most of the time it did. So, he would get the biggest tree on the tree lot for about half of what they wanted for him. Most of the time I felt like I was on the let's make a deal show. My grandfather would say I will give you such and such for it and the tree lot man would say well, sir why don't you give me this amount and it would go back and forth until a deal was made. Meanwhile, my sister and I would be shivering in the cold waiting and wishing the deal would be made already so we could go home.
The deal was only the beginning. It usually took four or more people to tie the tree on top of the car to get it home. You would have two people on one side of the car and two on the other side and my grandfather in the back. They would slide and push and pull the tree into place, tie the rope and away we went to my grandparents house.
When we got there my grandfather was usually on his own trying to take the tree off of the car unless a helpful neighbor would happen to see him struggling with it and volunteer to give him a hand. That happened a few times too. So, after a lot of swearing under his breath and about 20 minutes after he drove up in front of the house the tree was down. Now, the hardest part getting a ten foot tree inside a house that only had 8 foot ceilings. Ok, I don't really know how big the ceilings were but I do know that the tree was always too big for the ceiling in the living room where the tree would go. So, after my grandfather would prop the screen open, open the front door he go to the car on the sidewalk where the tree was standing and grab the front end of it and try to drag it in the house. Sometimes we would try to help him but most of the time the tree was too much for two little girls to handle so we were more of a hinderance then a help. But, he appreciated the effort.
My grandmother would come from the kitchen and from the smells that filled the air you knew she was cooking Christmas Eve dinner. Her famous tamalie pie that I couldn't wait to dig into while waiting for Santa. So, she would come out and shake her head with a look on her face like oh no here it comes. So, after a few minutes and a few more swear words under his breath the tree was half way in. Then he would push and pull and pull and push and sweat and cuss and then after a few more minutes he was sitting down resting. The tree still half way in and the front door still open. After a break and a glass of bottled water he would get up and try again. Usually the second time worked and the tree cooperated and he got it in the house. That was half the battle getting it in the front door.
So, furniture in the living room was moved around. Couches were moved closer together, chairs were moved to the dining room and a sheet was placed near the front window where the tree would eventually be for the next two weeks. My grandfather would look at the tree. Then look at the ceiling in the living room and then look at the tree by the front door again. He knew what he had to do. The same thing he had to do every year. He had to find the clippers and cut the top branches off of the tree. After screaming into the kitchen where my grandmother was and asking her where the clippers were he would go to the basement and come up 10 minutes with the clippers and other stuff he found down there and smiling like he had found some lost treasure. Once he brought up some dirty silk flowers that my grandmother put down there years ago. He came up smiling asking her if she remembered them from 1970. He never threw anything away. My grandmother would just shake her head and tell him to throw them out they were no good. He would argue all they needed was to be dusted off and they would be fine.
After the tree was clipped enough to fit inside the living room then the task of decorating it belonged to us, my sister, mom and me. Nobody else in the family would touch it. It was too much tree for them I guess. My grandfather would make two or three more trips to the basement, one to the attic and come back with bags and bags and boxes filled with Christmas lights and decorations from probably the early 60's until present day. We would start at the top with the tiny lights and work our way down until we go to the end of the lights and of course before we went any further the lights had to be turned on to see if they were all working because even though they were tested before they were put on the tree always one string would not work when we put it on the tree and that string would always be at the top of the tree plugged into all the rest of the strings. Most of the time we didn't bother with them if they didn't work they stayed right where they were and of course someone would come over and notice them and remark that all the lights weren't working.
So, it took a long time to put all the millions of decorations that he had for the tree and we were some tired people after all was said and done. That is when we would go home and rest for a couple of hours and return later for some food, some stories, some Christmas jazz music playing on the radio and to wait for Santa which was my grandfather who would disappear upstairs right before midnight and get the gifts and then come down holding the biggest bag I had ever seen filled to the top with gifts for all. Then at midnight we would open our gifts, look at the tree, tell some more stories and leave to return later for Christmas dinner.
I miss those times. I miss my grandparents the most and spending the holidays with them. But, what I don't miss are the huge trees that we decorated every year. Ok, maybe a little.
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