One of the things I am grateful for since my divorce, is being able to choose the annual Christmas tree without my husband in attendance. Every year, the children and I (in seizures of celebratory joy) would find the perfect tree and he would judge its merit by the price tag and insist we downsize to a more economical model.
The first Christmas after my divorce, the children and I chose a tree so immense that no commercial tree stand could accommodate it. It was delivered by the tree lot guys and after several attempts at forcing it into our run-of-the-mill stand and watching it buckle under the weight, one of them said with resignation, “Look lady, we can’t do this. This is the biggest tree we have ever had on the lot. It’s meant for City Hall or a college campus…”
For several days the magnificent tree lay in the foyer of the house like a whale that had foundered in a tributary, until my handyman built a custom stand and wired it with eye bolts to the wall.
This year, Lauren and I went to the produce stand in Hiawassee where there was a festive trash can fire and a sign boasting TREES $35! We chose the perfect tree the way Kim and I choose art – at the same time and with like minds we said, “That’s the one.”
The tree lot guy loaded it onto Lauren’s Jeep and we cautioned him to tie it tightly as we’d be climbing a very steep drive. Lauren said, “If it falls off the car Mom, you’re on your own…” If it did fall, I am such a Christmas trooper I can picture myself saying something like, “It’s okay sweetie,” and dragging 100 pounds of tree up a 70 degree grade by myself…
As it turns out, I am sitting at the kitchen table with a fire in the fireplace, all the candles lit and the tree and bannisters gleaming with Christmas cheer. I am drinking a gassy water and cranberry in a wine glass.
Tonight I will not think of all the mistakes I have made. It is good enough to know I am sober and safe and warm.
Today I’m not drinking because I am artfully placing bedazzled yet simple pinecones on the Christmas tree.
How come you’re not drinking?
P.S. Yesterday’s post was about how some Zappos boots were stalking me on the internet. Today when I was looking up the lyrics to O Christmas Tree, a little box with my stalker boots popped up and when I clicked on it this is what I got (kind of super-cool and kind of freaky):
Some People Prefer Rainbows, And Others Prefer Unicorns.
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