My Love/Hate Relationship with Christmas Trees

This year I REALLY didn't want to put up my Christmas tree. My 63 year-old body protests at the thought of bringing all of the boxes down from the attic, assembling the parts, stringing the lights, putting on the ornaments and cleaning up the fake needles from the floor. In addition to all of this, it's the memories that put me in a melancholy mood . . .

Memory #1:

When I recall the Christmas trees of my youth, I can't help but recall how excited we all were to decorate the tree. The rule in our house, however, was that we could not do anything until Dad strung the lights. He was an electrician, after all, and the lights weren't LED lights as they are now. It was probably best that he string the lights. I remember anxiously waiting for him to get finished -- then we could have at it. The style back then was to hang "icicles" from all of the branches. As kids, we didn't have the patience to place them one at a time on the branches, and I'm sure Mom followed behind us "fixing" everything we did. The trees were always "live." I searched through photo albums and found this picture of my brother, Ted, and sister, Karen, in front of a tree when we lived in Golf Manor. It was our "cowboy" phase. I bet there are a lot of you who grew up in the 50's who remember that time well.

Ted and Karen in front of our tree ca. 1958

Memory #2:

In 1959, we moved to Pleasant Ridge. This was truly the home of our youth. The arrival of Dan in April of 1959 made it nearly impossible for us to continue living in the small three-bedroom Golf Manor home now that we were a family of eight. It was sometime during that period that I'm sure Dad became perfectly happy with relinquishing some of his "tree" duties. It was also during this era that Scotch Pines became the preferred tree in our family. I have numerous pictures of me, my siblings and my cousins, all lined up in birth order, in front of those trees. I was even able to find one of Dad showing off his new robe. (Note Tom in the lower right-hand corner).

Memory #3:

I'm sure that tucked away in my memory are several examples of Christmas trees that I put up with my husband at the time, Bob. I'm sure we enjoyed putting up a tree for Elizabeth's first Christmas. But what I REALLY remember is the Christmas of 1979. I was newly-divorced with a one-year old baby. I was in no mood to celebrate Christmas, but felt I HAD to get it together for Elizabeth. So I took my newly-single self over to the Blue Ash YMCA, bought a live tree, and brought the thing home. (To say I didn't care about it is an understatement). I lived in a second-floor apartment. I tied a rope to the tree, hoisted it up and over the balcony railing and decorated it. I'll never forget the feeling. Having accomplished that, I felt for the first time since my divorce that I would "make it" as a single parent.

Memory #4:

Fast forward about ten years, and I'm now married to Bill. Bill has never had a love of putting up Christmas trees, partly because he could never buy a tree that was the "right one" for his ex-wife. Once he literally brought home three different trees before she was satisfied. Besides, he's Jewish, so he could cop out on this Christmas tradition. Add to that the fact that I am allergic, and I do mean ALLERGIC, to Christmas trees. Decorating the tree always meant long sleeves, gloves and a great deal of itching. I turned into a "witch" -- or you can substitute your own word. About 20 years ago in frustration, I left Liz with Bill and went down to the local "Big Box" store and bought an artificial tree. If you can believe it, I put up the SAME tree today.

Memory #5:

Christmas 2010
Ian was 2 1/2 years old

Christmas 2010, we moved into a new chapter. Liz and her husband, Roland, blessed us with our first grandson. Bill and I pulled out all of the stops. The tree went up and so did the train we bought for Liz 23 years earlier. Anything to make Ian's Christmas special.

Which brings us to Christmas 2012. Oh, how I dreaded putting up the tree. Fake knees and hips don't lend themselves to this kind of activity. I wanted my Dad to "string the lights" one more time.

I've got a new grandson, Andrew, and I want his first Christmas to be special. So I got myself together and put up the tree -- one more time. I'm thinking this year will be the perfect year for Roland and Ian to help Grandpa put the train up -- I'm sure you would agree.

Merry Christmas 2012 to all of my family and friends. 

                                                    Kath

The Wedding That Was - April 2, 1976

 Wedding Day - April 2, 1976

In a previous post, I discussed the "wedding that wasn't."  My fiancee and I called off the wedding one week before it was to take place in July 1974.  He seemed to be remorseful from the beginning that we did not marry, even though he was the one with cold feet.  I promised my Dad that we would never get married -- I believed it when I said it. 

Over the next two years, however, my "ex" made a lot of changes in his life to convince me that he regretted the decision and wanted to get married.  There is so much I could say (but choose not to) because I believe that he is entitled to his privacy and may see things differently.  I'll just say that my large family had become his family and that he really cared about all of us. 

So nearly two years after calling off our wedding, it was on again.  This time it was very much scaled-down and happened within two months of our decision.  We still had unused contracts with the photographer, florist, etc. and just called and rescheduled.  The date was practically determined by my sister, Karen.  She was scheduled to be married on April 10th and knew that she would be moving permanently to Florida.  I wanted her in the wedding and she said it would be impossible to turn around and return to Cincinnati any time soon.  So she suggested we get married the week BEFORE her scheduled wedding. 

In hindsight, I think that was an incredibly gracious offer on her part.  I'm not sure to this day that I should have taken her up on it.  Since, of course, we share the same aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends, many people would feel obligated to attend two family weddings eight days apart.  It would have been one thing if her long-planned wedding was the first one, but in fact, it was the second. 

I remember being very happy on my wedding day.  There was a lot to admire about my "ex" that I found attractive.  I always had this feeling that we could create beautiful and intelligent children together -- and that we did.

Why we split is one of those things most appropriately discussed in another forum.  I believe that when we married, it was definitely the right thing to do at the time. When we decided to divorce 3 1/2 years later, people would comment that it was too bad that we had not realized it would not work before we had a child.  I'm sure that I can speak for both of us when I say that that is the one thing that neither of us regrets.

Things happen for a reason.  I'm a better person because of it.  And best of all -- I have a beautiful daughter as a result of it who has enriched my life.  What could be wrong with that?

Tom's Birthday -- My Irish Twin

It's Tom's Birthday! It's that time of the year when for three weeks just this side of spring that we are the same age. My mother used to say that we were "Irish twins" -- a term used for siblings born less than 12 months apart. There was no time in my life that I don't remember Tom being a part of it.

In a comment to a post about another family birthday, Tom's daughter, Melissa, asked, "Was my Dad ever a kid?" That's what happens when you are one of the "big kids." All family pictures show you as older than everyone else. So I tried to take up Melissa's challenge and see if I could find pictures of her Dad as a kid.

Tom

The pictures in the collage at the top of the page include one of my favorites of Tom and I sitting on the steps of our Grandmother's house in Wyoming.  The other picture was "clipped" from a family movie.  Tom is parading in on Easter Sunday with his cousins, Chuck and Bill.  I was also able to crop a picture of Tom as a little boy from another family picture.



Dogs were always a part of our growing up.  T-Bone was one of the dogs of our youth.   Here he is pictured with Tim and Tom.

As an adult, Tom has loved and owned horses. Pictured is Tom on a horse on a family vacation to the apple orchard home of the Crowell's in Carbondale, Illinois. Mary Davis Crowell was one of Mom's best childhood friends.

I don't know where to draw the line.  My goal is to share some pictures that I'm sure most of my siblings have never seen.  So let me add a couple more.

I had forgotten that Tim and Tom played on Kiwanis Little League baseball teams. The picture almost looks like everyone was told to stand at attention.

Let me complete this birthday tribute with one of my favorite pictures. Tom has never been able to escape his role as the big brother -- thankfully for all of us, it's been a role he's always played well. I think I can speak for all of us when I say, "Happy birthday, Tom and we LOVE you."

Kath

It's Karen's Birthday!

Karen is my only sister.  We have five brothers.  So you'd think we'd be "bosom buds" from the beginning.  Nope!!!  When Karen was born, she was the 4th child born to my parents in less than four years!  I was the oldest -- getting to be the "only" child for 11 months and one week.  Mom called Tom and me "Irish twins" which was apparently a term applied to two siblings born with less than a year between them.  Then came Tim.  And then -- Karen.

I'm sure I was thrilled with the "idea" of having a sister, but the "reality" was something different.  One of my earliest memories with Karen (one she's heard about numerous times) was when Mom asked me to take Karen out to play with the neighborhood kids.  Are you kidding me?  I was about five, a tomboy, and there was no way I wanted to take this kid with me and have her cramp my style.  I literally, and guiltily, recall dragging that sweet little girl down the street angry that this little toddler couldn't keep up.  What's worse is, if I recall correctly, Karen was so happy just to be outside.

Then there was jealousy.  Karen was obviously Dad's "favorite."  Ask anybody.  He called her "Buppy Beeple."  Karen always had these beautiful finger curls and sure knew how to use them to her advantage.  Never mind that I had Mom in my corner -- I wanted it all.


For the first years of our lives, not only did we share a bedroom, but we shared a bed.  We got pretty good at setting up little barriers defining "my side" of the bed.  As we grew older and had cleaning responsibilities, we each had SEPARATE tasks.  That was critical.  I was a bit of a neat freak (I know, it's hard to believe now), and thought Karen was a slob.  We used to get into these arguments and slap each other. 

So where are we now . . .

I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful sister.  Unfortunately, since our young adulthood, we have been separated by many miles.  I found myself smiling as I typed the above description, realizing how things have changed over the years.

Karen is one of the "Big Kids" -- the four of us that were born in the first four years.  The memories we have of our childhood differ so much from those of the "Little Kids".  As adults we've been able to laugh about how "Dad liked you better" but "Mom liked you better."  We are grateful to have at least one other female among the "Jones Boys."  Neither of us loves to clean our house.

Kath, Tim, Tom, Ted and Karen

I think of Karen with love and affection.  It was such a pleasure to look through the old picture albums and be reminded of our youth.  Only siblings can share the memories with you -- and I am grateful for every one of mine.

There is a lot I could have written about Karen, but I think I'll wait until next year to write about our "older" selves.  Just know, Karen, that I'm so glad that you are my sister.





I love the picture below of you, Terry, and Peggy. I'm guessing you were about seven, since you are missing your front teeth.

Love,

Kath

December 31st -- Tim's Birthday

Ted, Karen and Tim

When my brother Tim was born on this date in 1951, my father was thrilled -- not because he had his third child and second son in less than three years, but because he arrived in time to provide the family with an additional income tax deduction!  Surely, I kid.

I'm guessing the picture above was probably taken about 1958 or 1959.  By then we also had Karen and Ted in the family.  Cowboy outfits must have been the "in" thing that year if the outfits everyone is wearing are any indication.

What I love most about Tim is the way he thinks.  I may be the family historian from the point of view of collecting and organizing facts on pieces of paper, but Tim will remember every little detail -- especially if it has to do with family cars or certain "records" (remember those?) that he played until there was no vinyl remaining.

He is now the proud father of two, grandfather of two and soon-to-be father-in-law again when his son marries in May.  Happy birthday, Tim -- and here is wishing you many more.

Love,
Kath