If you're like me, then you're just now getting really motivated (or motor-mated, right Maddy?) for Christmas. And if you're also like me, then you are about to drown a pair of black cats for tearing down your beloved Christmas tree with their bare, menacing claws. Deep breaths.
One of the reasons the tree and its trimmings were special to me was because somewhere after believing in Santa and before being out on my own, I didn't really liked Christmas.
It was a season of "I want." It was financially draining and that certainly affects a family. It was stressful and travel-ful but not the fun kind of travel. The kind of travel where you are stuck in the backseat of a sedan with 2 siblings side-to-side and the one on the right of you is asleep against the cool, stable car door (jealous*) and the one on the left just spilled canned nuts all over the seat and is squishing you even more to try and get all the little peanutty chunks out of the cracks of the faux leather and the whole car smells like warm string cheese and banana.
The winter I was 16 I bought a Christmas tree, ornaments, lights and garland with my babysitting money. I love that tree. It stood for independence, personal style, life and hard work and hope - all that was good about the holidays. It was probably the largest purchase I had made for myself at the time. I put it in my room to have my own vignette.
Every year I put up this tree. In my childhood room. Sharing it with my family when we didn't buy a tree collectively. Putting it up in my dorm room on top of the TV which lived on top of the minifridge (quite a tower!). In both of my city apartments and now in my first apartment with my newest, closest family - my husband.
Taking its disassembled pieces and all of the little accessories out of the box was a joyful and emotional experience for me. I took them all out of their newspaper and tissue wrapping to reminisce when I got each one and who gave it to me. I coached S to nestle the heavy ones on thicker branches and closer to the trunk and to use the plain silver ones as filler to hide the naked wires in between. Not that he needed coaching but I needed to voice my theory for the tree, to share the process that I went through annually with this now needle-flinging decoration.
So when S came into the bathroom while I was in the middle of a different routine (morning make-up) and gently broke the news to me that the cats had torn the tree down and broken a ceramic angel ornament I was surprised that I didn't immediately whip down the hallway in a rage.
"It's just stuff," I told him later that day.
He seemed to be even madder than me. I think he saw how touched I was by all of the little things in bubble wrap and old laundry sacks and didn't want me to feel like Christmas was broken. Granted, I was not happy, but I was not destroyed either.
Yes, we stayed up until midnight decorating it and running out for a few strings of white lights when we couldn't locate my old ones. He and I drank beer and wine, respectively, and make the trimming a party set to the sounds of Bing Crosby Pandora radio. Mumbling through the wrong lyrics to White Christmas, S chasing me around with a vacuum when I dropped pine needles and blew dust off of boxes, turning up the fire on full blast. The whole thing was Christmas.
I think I wasn't as crushed because I still had the experience of decorating and we made some new memories.
Also, because I know that I can now beg for a new tree and will get to do this all over again this weekend!
With that in mind, spend your money wisely this holiday season. Be responsible. Spend local. Be thankful for what really matters because everything else is "just stuff".
Want some really cool stuff (if you must)? Join me in supporting small local business with this awesome sounding bazaar: Chicago's Renegade Craft Fair Holiday Market or look for Renegade in your area (they have other major cities too!). Thanks for the tip, Anna!
