The fake Christmas tree family
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- December 10, 2018
- 1400
I snapped a picture of my freshly decorated Christmas tree and sent it to the group text my kids and I have. The responses ranged from “beautiful” to “cute, little guy” to “I love it!”
I sent it knowing my children, even though none of them live at home anymore, would appreciate knowing the tree is up and waiting for them whenever they can come home to celebrate, Christmas day or not.
I laughed inside at the responses. Growing up, we always had a real tree, whether we purchased it from the outside of a grocery store or in a small lot decorated with lights on some street corner. The trip for the tree was fun but not the center of attention that it has grown to today.
Our world of Instagram and Facebook has turned every small detail of our lives into a major event, of which I too am guilty. But I digress. The reason I laughed is because the tree sitting by the window in our living room?
Fake. Faux. Not real.
I’m tired, friends. Tired of battling falling needles and struggling with tree stands filled with water and whether it will still look beautiful on Christmas Day — or into New Year’s Day. I’ve always been ready to pitch the tree the week in-between because I just can’t take any more needles on the floor, ground into the carpet, or the cat knocking down the ornaments along with one million more tiny needles along with it. I love the smell of the fresh tree, the act of putting it up with your kids and making it a special time.
But you know what? My kids don’t live at home, and I can do what I want. Hallelujah!
I put in my time of playing Christmas carols and making hot cocoa, dragging out the handmade ornaments (that I love) and watching them be hung haphazardly on the tree. I’m done with them tiring after 10 minutes and running away to play while Mom finishes the tree, making each ornament straight and tidy. I loved every minute of those times, and though I do miss it, I don’t miss it enough to wish it back.
Last week I marched myself out to the local thrift store and beheld their array of various Christmas trees. I told my husband I was going to put up a very small tree that we had. And did he care that it wasn’t very big? He thought that one was too small, and I did too. Yet I didn’t want to pay $10 million for something at a retail store that will sit out for one month. So I found myself at the thrift store with myriad gorgeous trees at a reasonable price. After selecting the one, I put it in my trunk and headed home. It was the perfect size, price and shape.
My middle daughter FaceTimed me the other day, and I showed her the skinny, well-shaped Christmas tree in all its glory. She oohed and aahed, and I asked her, “Isn’t it beautiful?” And she said, “It sure is!”
I started laughing, and she asked me why. I told her “because the tree is an artificial one!” Lots of heavy angst ensued.
“We are a real tree family Mom!” she yelled from her phone overseas.
And I told her, “We were a real tree family. Now Dad and I are an artificial tree family.”
And this is how it changes when you become empty nesters. I can’t live my life hanging on to all the old traditions because the kids want it that way, especially when there is no joy in the practice anymore. I found more joy in setting up that small, simple tree than I have setting up any other tree for years. And so new traditions are born.