Have you ever realized that it is usually in retrospect that something that sounds like a grand plan at the time is actually fraught with stupidity? There are some things in my past that are just too damn depressing to keep writing about. Personally I really would rather not go there. I would rather write about some of my past exploits and adventures that at the time I should have never undertaken, but didn’t realize until after the fact that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.
For example, there is that whacked over idea that once my parents died there place was at the cemetery even though between you, me, and the bed post I KNOW only their remains are there. Their souls took off to heaven or wherever they go when they drew the last breath. Technically I can’t follow them to heaven for a visit, so I do the next best thing and march my happy butt out to the cemetery. My folks loved the twinkle of Christmas lights. They both used to deck the halls to the hilt so when my mom died it seem appropriate to take a Christmas tree to the cemetery and light it up with Christmas tree lights on ChristmasEve night. My dad attached huge batteries and had it down to a science so that Mom’s little tree would remain lit most of the night despite the cold which can be a real battery sucker. After she died, my family would visit the cemetery, light her lights, then head to my Dad’s house for a huge Christmas feast followed by the opening of mountains of presents. On the way home after the festivities, my husband and I would stop by the cemetery to retrieve the tree.
After my Dad joined my mom at the cemetery, my husband and I were determined to carry on the tradition. The only problem was that we were no longer out and about on Christmas Eve. We would bundle up and take the tree out to the grave site about 5 PM and then go home. The year my Dad died, I waited till almost bed time Christmas Eve night and decided I would go pick the tree up. My daughter decided to go with me, and my husband elected to stay home. To me, up until that point, going to the cemetery was the same as going to my folk’s house to see them. Maybe a little colder and a little darker, but you get the idea. It was no big deal. I pulled into the pitch dark cemetery and drove back to where my parents graves were, parked, and my daughter and I got out and leisurely strolled out to their tombstone in the moonlight as if we didn’t have a care in the world.
I stopped before their stone and with tears in my eyes I wished them both a Merry Christmas again. As I picked up the tree, I distinctly heard voices say Merry Christmas. I glanced at my daughter, and she glanced at me. “Did you hear that?” I asked nervously. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she answered “Yes”. There was no one else around. “Mommy?” she said obviously terrified.
I freaked out, and by the look of my daughter she was on the train to freak town right along with me. A chill ran up my spine. Holding the tree in one hand, I grabbed her hand with the other and raced hell bent for election through the snow and obstacle course of tombstones to the car. As we ran we heard other voices whispering “Merry Christmas!” I can honestly say that the experience scared the living be Je$us out me. I almost $hit myself. We got in the car, locked the doors, and sped out of the cemetery as if the hounds of hell were licking at our tires.
In retrospect, I realized the tree could stay where it was till morning. For every Christmas since, the tree has remained at the cemetery until Christmas day and when the roads were especially bad and the snow deep, it remained till after New Years. In retrospect, you locate a few brains, gain a smidgeon of common sense that you previously didn’t possess, and learn not to provoke the bloody ghost of Christmas past until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
I love Christmas trees!! Growing up my folks always made the trek to Eby Pines the weekend after Thanksgiving to select a tree. We put it up that very weekend with my Dad in charge of hanging the lights, and the hanging of the decorations fell to the rest of us. It always made the house smell so good. Even if the cats took great joy in using the tree stand as their personal water dish, I always loved our real Christmas trees. My mom loved to decorate the whole house for Christmas and there were some years she placed 2 Christmas trees in the living room, a tree in the hall, and one in each bedroom. She loved to decorate for Christmas and hung tinsel garlands, lights, and ornaments everywhere imaginable.
When my husband and I first married it was important to me to continue the tradition. The weekend following Thanksgiving was rainy that year. We didn’t let the rain deter us from schedule and marched right out to Eby Pines to select our tree. By the time we returned home we were resembled drenched rats. The tree was soaked, and everything in the living room pretty much was too. After that, my husband didn’t want any part of a real Christmas tree and we purchased an artificial model.
Shortly after we first married, everyone in the family made the transition to an artificial tree. Whether it was from the bad luck of all the needles promptly falling off upon the tree’s arrival to the house, or the fact that everyone was getting older it seemed no one wanted to deal with the headache of maintaining a real tree for the month of December.
Before my Dad died fiber optic trees became all the rage and he was the first person I knew who rushed out and purchased one. By the next year, WALMART advertised a 6 foot fiber optic tree on sale for $40.00 on Black Friday. My husband and I bundled up our toddler and rushed to the store at the butt crack of dawn to get ours at a great price. It lasted a few years and then lost its luster. The bulbs burned out, and by then I was aching for twinkling lights again.
Another Black Friday came where Walgreens had a 6 foot lighted tree on sale for 30.00. Once again we rose at the butt crack of dawn and made sure we got our hot little hands on one of those trees. We have used that tree ever since.
With our special decorations from the baby picture ornaments, wedding picture ornament, to the ornaments made carefully by my kids, our tree is overflowing with memories. When my husband first married we vowed we would add a new ornament each Christmas whether it is a Hallmark classic ornament, a handmade ornament, or one representing the year. After 14 years of happy additions, we now have a tree full of very special ornaments.
There is no better time of the year than Christmas, and no better decoration for the house than a Christmas tree!! That is all I have to say until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
