When I was growing up, we always put our tree up on December 1 and took it down on December 26.
When you are in chaos and sadness you rely on constants.
Even though I didn’t live at home anymore, I was looking forward to putting up the tree with my dad just as I had done every year. It was his thing and it was fun to do together.
On December 1st, I went to my parents home excited and happy to PUT UP THE TREE!!!!
When I arrived, there was no tree, no boxes of decorations or lights. The mood was heavy and the color I see in my memory is black.
At the time I feel a sickening guilt for being excited. We are on the healing path to a new normal but the roadblock has been put up. My dad asks me how I am and how my day was and what’s new.
I don’t want to have small talk. I am selfish and I need this mother f’n tree up so we can see something beautiful.
I state in my parenting tone I am here to put up the tree with you. Where is it? I’ll get it out.
He says No.
My mom says nothing.
I plead a bit. Truth be told, he was always a sucker for my “puppy dog eyes” and I could usually accomplish getting my way by using this tactic. This time, it did not work.
He says – we aren’t having a tree this year, I don’t feel like it.
At 23 I certainly do not understand why he is saying this. I think if you are sad, let’s put up the tree and get happy.
All the memories of past Christmases and decorating the tree with Kevin was a suitcase he didn’t want to unpack. Or he wasn’t ready to unpack it with me.
I don’t speak of it again. I worry. I internalize it.
It is my mom who figures out a way to have a tree and make the transition to a Christmas without Kevin a bit easier for my dad. Closer to Christmas she calls and asks me to come over.
A beautifully decorated tree is in their living room. it is a new tree, it has green lights and new decorations. She says that she decided to buy a new tree. That’s all. Dad seems proud of it, so I go with the flow.
Years later my mom tells me that they just couldn’t put the old tree up. It had so many great memories tied to it. She said they decorated a new tree together and it felt a little better.
Small changes can make things a little easier.
For me, every year when the boxes of decorations come out I have a sad time. Maybe it’s a hour, maybe it’s a day. I don’t choose it, but My body remembers my parents sadness from that first Christmas after my brother died. I take the time need to move through it so I can enjoy the decorating and be in happier space.
I still have that tree my parents bought in 1996. It’s more than just a tree to me and it makes me smile while I make it look beautiful.
Everyone’s tree has a story. What’s yours?
Walking Home 