Member-only story
Finding Christmas Spirit
Growing up, my parents made Christmas so special for us. Every year, we would load up in cars with thermoses filled with hot chocolate and go cut down our own tree. I can still smell the scent of pine as I picture my dad bent over in the snow sawing away at the tree trunk.
I remember standing back while my parents got the tree placement just right. It had to be far enough away from the fireplace to keep from drying out, but not too far to be a hazard trying to get in and out of the office. One of us always had to vacuum once it was up, while one of us crawled under it and velcroed the tree skirt in place.
Tubs of lights would be dragged down from the attic and untangled while we searched for the one bad bulb that kept the string from lighting up. Our dog would lay there looking at us like we were crazy. Finally, when enough of the strands worked, we’d hand them up to my dad on the ladder and he’d start the task of stringing the lights on the tree. When we finally reached the bottom and plugged it in, there was always a sense of accomplishment.
Our traditions went on and on. Looking back, I really cherish them.
I regret not doing the same with my kids. We started to. When they were little, the tree would come out and get decorated, but it was a fake tree, and not so special. As the years went by, the traditions slowly…