"That one's too fat."
"That one's too short."
"That one has a bald spot!"But eventually, that glorious moment arises when the clouds part and a beam of Heavenly spotlight guides us to that perfect tree. The one that fits like a glove inside our little family room and is strong enough to withstand the thwapping tail and batting paws of our family pets. It's then that Dad tosses down the foam knee pad and impatiently demands either my sister or I "hold the goddamn tree straight!" while he lumber-jacks it down with an old metal saw that has, in the years passed, kissed the bark of many a Christmas tree. Within the following half-hour we're back in our house wrestling to get that picky lump of perfection through the front door and standing tall, and most importantly straight, in the metal tree stand. And the hour after that is made up entirely of Christmas songs, brightly colored twinkle lights, fragile childhood decorations made by Sonya and I, the occasional crash of a glass ornament (which is then followed my a foul string of colorful vocabulary) and so many "do you remember when's?" I couldn't even begin to count.
It made my heart grow 3 sizes today when that very same tradition that I've grown up to love and cherish (and miss SO very badly over the past 4 years) played out just as I'd remembered. Only this time, my husband was able to experience it right there with me. Today, alongside my Hubby, Mom, Dad, Sister and 'brother-in-law' I added to that memory bank, that dusty hazy bookshelf in my brain full of all the 'do you remember when?' story's. I was drunk on happiness yet I continued to soak it all in. Yes, today we went and cut our Christmas tree. But more importantly, I added another memory to that tightly packed hazy bookshelf. That's something special. A tradition intertwined with fond memories that no one can ever take away from me. Boy, I can't wait to pass that on to my children someday too.
|Our special Liverpool ornaments <3|