Sunday, December 16, 2012

Old Friends

It's been so many years since we've had a real live tree (why do we call them "real live" as opposed to unreal live or real dead???).  I'd forgotten how much fun it is to work around crooked stems, bare spots, watering and all.  And I mean fun not in the least bit sarcastic because it was like a walk down memory lane.

With an artificial tree, everything is in perfect proportion and conditions.  That's why we buy them.  They offer the perfect solution to all things tree.  Except perfect doesn't always have a personality.

Aren't the most beautiful people the ones that have a physical imperfect something.  It's what makes them unique. 

I realized as I was decorating my real live tree, there were many ornaments I hadn't used in years because they were essentially fillers for those bare spots.  When my oldest son, Trent, was a baby I made most of our tree decorations because I didn't have the money for much else.  Not that I didn't enjoy making them, it was fun to have a tree with the brightly colored paper and glitter ornaments.

Sooo, it's probably been twenty years since I hauled those paper and glitter ornaments out and they were mostly wrinkled and flat.  Amazingly, I was able to tug them into acceptable hole fillers. 

All the grandkids ornaments I've received over the years went on the tree in spite of the glue loosening essential elements.  Handmade ornaments from grandparents, my mother, a work friend and others. 

I smiled and remembered each person and each instance of why an ornament was created or received.  What a great time with Christmas memories.  I figured it was my own little special time.  I was wrong. 

Gracie, five year old granddaughter, came out and spent hours sitting beside the tree, looking at ornaments and asking about them.  Where did they come from, can I touch this one, "Look Grandma, this one spins!", why do lights get hot and more.  My special time became our special time and that folks was a Christmas memory to beat all.  It wouldn't have happened had we not put up a real tree this year.  I'm thinking it's a habit which may totally replace my perfectly elegant artificial tree.  Perfect isn't all it's cracked up to be. 

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