My small tree sits on an end table, But decorating it takes preparation. I pull the familiar box off the Shelf in the garage, and as I carefully Remove its contents I prepare myself for A tsunami of emotions. I have a "theme" tree now, entirely Red and silver, but I've stored away a Few plastic birds and a fragile bell from My childhood tree which seemed Magical to me. I've passed lots of ornaments on to my Girls, but I've kept several to remind me of The days when we tramped through the Tree farm trying to choose just the Perfect tree to topple. I'll never forget the year it tumbled over in The living room, twice, before I anchored it to The window. Four Christmases ago, the tree stayed in The attic above the garage. Jack had died just weeks earlier, and my Grief was too raw to pull it out. But I'm better now, and when my Decorating job is completed I Switch on the lights. As the little tree sparkles I remember what My girls and I used to say, "It's the best tree ever." |