Yesterday I spent most of the afternoon putting up the Christmas tree. Our tree is a fake tree. Boo! I know. I know. There are two camps those who MUST have a real tree and the rest of us… I promise I’m not a Scrooge… But an artificial tree is in the Donovan home.
Our tree is about nine feet tall and it’s one of those ornery beasts, which requires you to insert each branch into the base one at a time and then fluff the greenery out. Insert – fluff – repeat… Insert- fluff- repeat…
It takes forever to get the thing up and ready for lights. No one in the house likes this part of the Christmas tradition.
“It’s time to put up the tree,” I call to my family.
Caitie, my daughter, somehow slips away to her room. My husband is hiding out in his office. The only one in the living room with me is our dog, Peanut. Even he is annoyed with me because I have tied his Christmas kerchief around his neck.
We deck the halls and the dog around here.
Well I pushed on and started the tree by myself. What I discovered is that slowly the family started emerging from their hideouts. My husband came to inspect my work first.
“Honey, why is it you don’t help me with the tree?”
“Well, it’s not my favorite thing to do.”
I should have expected this answer. But then he quietly pitched in, placing the top on the fake evergreen. He fluffed and smiled down at me.
It was then that I realized something I hadn’t before. This tradition is very important to my husband. It would bother him beyond words if one year I didn’t want to put up a tree. I also realize that my husband is not a starter of most projects around our home but he always comes to help once I get it going.
This morning in the predawn, I plugged in the lights of our tree. Mesmerized, I gazed at the glistening color as they twinkled in the darkness. This tree reflected back to me a message… a lifetime of love.
The ornaments collected over the years from our vacation adventures, soccer practice, Bible studies, our children’s activities and many other odd sorts of escapades are memories, which fill my heart. The ornaments echo our life together, our marriage, our children, our laughter, and our love.
This tree, our family scrapbook, is a deep connection in our home and I realized something this year. I will always, always have a Christmas tree in our home. Long after the kids have married and have their own home and family. Long after our Peanut is gone. I may be eighty but I will hang ornaments on our tree and thank the good Lord above for the abundance of love He has given me.
Be blessed, Lynn
What is a holiday family tradition that connects you and your husband?
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