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

How I Love Halloween (And Made My Mother Pay for It)!

Roland, Ian and Liz

As many of you know, I am the oldest of seven children.  When I think back on my childhood, it didn't get much better than Halloween!  FREE candy! Costumes! Laughter! Racing from neighbor to neighbor at night!

The Halloween I will never forget happened when I was six years old -- one of the best ages for trick or treating.  A day before the annual ritual, I came down with chicken pox.  (My grandchildren will have to google it).  I was miserable.  If you can believe it, MY VERY UNREASONABLE MOTHER WOULD NOT LET ME GO TRICK OR TREATING!  Are you kidding me?  Well, I'd show her -- I probably remember that Halloween not so much for what I didn't get to do, as much as what I did.  I don't remember EVER behaving so badly.  I threw a tantrum.  I kicked. I screamed.  I blamed my mother.  It was her fault, wasn't it?

Well, now I'm 62 years old.  I still like Halloween, but I wish I didn't have to get up and down from the chair every couple of minutes to give candy to children I don't know, hoping to have just enough candy so my husband and I won't eat the leftovers.  Some of the costumes were cute and a few of the kids took me back in time, but I feel a little bah-humbuggy.

My Urban Cowboy, Ian

Maybe it would be better if I lived closer to my daughter's family.  They've sent me pictures.  How can these not get you in the mood?



Ian and Preschool Friends

Well it's now 7:32 -- less than a half hour to go. There was a lot of traffic at first, and I sent my husband for more candy -- candy that it now appears we didn't need. I hope your Halloween was a happy one and that you made a wonderful childhood memory for some little kid. Anyone for a Reese's cup?

Easter 2010

Yesterday was Easter.  It was a beautiful, unusually warm day for Cincinnati in early April.  This year we did something a little different.  Instead of a formal sit-down dinner, Tom and Linda graciously agreed to allow us to come to their home and we all contributed various hors d'oeuvres and deserts.  It was wonderful.  The second generation includes some quite creative cooks and their contributions must be "healthy".  We all benefited.

A couple of the kids could not attend at this time, but Savannah, Mae, Ian, and John represented the "grandchildren".  We all missed Will and Quentin -- but then there is always Christmas when we will have yet another boy added to the mix, thanks to Chip and Lisa.  How my parents would have loved it!

We had an appearance by the Easter Bunny -- aka Don. The younger kids differed in their reactions, ranging from delight to fear.

Despite what is a less than stellar economy, the whole family seems to be doing pretty well, and we are blessed with healthy, bright and joyful children and grandchildren.
(I can tell you as a parent that there is nothing more pleasurable than watching your children parent your grandchildren -- they seem to do such a great job)!

The day before the entire family got together, Roland, Liz and Ian came down from Columbus.  We decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and try out the newly-opened playground at Lake Isabella.  Ian loved it, as did we, and Bill (Pa-ga) got to introduce Ian to fishing.  I don't know who was more impressed with the minnow being put on the hook -- Ian or Zippy.




Perhaps at a later date I'll put together a photoshow of many of the pictures from that day and include a link on this post.  For now, I'll end with one last picture from the Lake Isabella playground.  I hope that all of my family and friends enjoyed their families as much as I did mine.