‘It’s just a tree’ I tell myself as I unravel the fairy lights that are about to brighten the lifeless, artificial, sad, barely 2 ft pine excuse of a Christmas tree. Every year for the past three years, I’ve told myself I’d get a proper tree, but every year I don’t have the heart to discard this ‘Charlie Brown’ tree with its lifeless branches. I still remember walking into the store the day I purchased it. The shop did a good job of keeping up with the Christmas spirit as masked shoppers wandered around during our first Covid Christmas. I wanted a tree because it would make my small home feel christmassy. I wasn’t sure if my boys would make it out to visit me, but I wanted to be prepared. The underlying truth was, I didn’t know if I could afford a proper tree or even if I wanted it and I didn’t know how I would make it through this Christmas, alone.
As I walked through the isles I found myself filling up with mixed emotions. My first Christmas alone. I am wandering around like a stray dog watching others bask in the season of joy. I watch the shoppers as they fill their carts and I have nothing desirable drawing me in. Everything here seems to leave me sad and sickly. The mask around my face will do another job today, it will hide my pain and subdued spirit. The Christmas spirit seems to have left my senses, yet watching the colors of the season wrapped on everything I pass, lifts me a tad and then just as quickly, I go back to feeling indisposed.
There’s a slight vibe in the air, of appreciation that we all made it to Christmas this year with the pandemic almost behind us. For some of us it was more than a pandemic, it was a shocking displacement of virtue and the surfacing of many truths that we lied to ourselves about. The principals of a life that still needed to be lived came to us through the heartbreak of seeing that there was more to this disaster than what swept the world. Our priorities needed reevaluating and to just slow down and focus meant the rising of bitter truths. We were all panicky, some terrified as we watched and listened to the passing of ones who couldn’t fight. Some like me accepted it, I became undisturbed. It was the harshness that taught me to live in calmness; what will be will be. If I’m meant to pull through I will. Just like my past life, I’d make it through. But now, even the pandemic seems minuscule to what life has thrown my way.
My fingers glide across the bright tissue paper. How things have changed. I would buy rolls of Christmas paper because every gift needed to look unique. I didn’t care so much about receiving gifts but I made sure everyone received one. I’d spend hours wrapping to perfection, decorating my humble abode and entertaining my loved ones. It seems like another lifetime now. It was all about the children but they grew up and left. I’d still make the effort, just for them.
Every Christmas I found a cause worthy of my giving. I helped the less privileged, it was about bringing hope and joy to those that needed my smile. How can you shift through this season and not bring a little bliss to another soul? Christmas satisfied a hunger in me of pleasing no matter what I was dealing with. This Christmas I am finding it hard to even please myself.
The aroma of pine filled the air and my fireplace was decorated specifically for the season and nestled together under my 8 foot glistening tree were the presents I neatly wrapped. I made such an effort to bring everyone together, inviting them into my world of Christmas spirit. I admire the stunningly decorated trees on display. They remind me of the war we had trying to put my tree up and then take it down, it was part of my tradition just like the ornaments I collected, each one held a story. I smile remembering my fight with the millions of lights I untangled together with the ritual of burning one batch of baked goodies.
Christmas cards line the shelves and I envision myself again comfortably seated for my yearly tradition of hand writing greetings to people I valued. I’d sit with my favorite Christmas cup and some morsels of delicate chocolate, singing along to the carols. My mind wanders to the cold evenings we’d be all bundled up. As a little girl we’d sing our hearts out as we went door to door with friends and sang carols we learned at school that season. Christmas was treasured even if all you had was just your sweet voice to share.
I pass by the glistening tinsel and the aroma of scented candles but I have no delight in bringing any of it home. How does your demeanor change towards something that once brought you so much joy. The Christmas staples reminded me of my dining table neatly dressed for the season. My best china made it to the table, the crystals shone in the candle light and I was always so proud of my display. I was now reluctant to celebrate and unwilling to let my mood shift. Somehow inside of you, you find the strength to keep going, to move forward because in the end we do matter and life is an adjustment, we either change or we become stuck.
I take a second glance at a small tree, it’s hidden behind some chaos on the shelf, it looks out of place and reminds me of myself. It’s not a Christmas tree but it will do. I evaluate it as if I’m purchasing a luxury brand and then without another thought it comes home with me. This little tree taught me how much to appreciate what I have. I’ve rescued something that others found unimportant and lifeless, something that was alone and needed some care. My little Christmas tree and I made it through my first Christmas. As I continue to dress it up for the season this evening, I know I will never let it go. It’s my reminder that when I had lost hope, I found a way and isn’t this what Christmas is about, hope and joy.