This past week it seems every store is running a Christmas in July special. At first, I think good grief Christmas is six months away. Then, I ponder if I need to purchase any Christmas decor while it might be cheaper. Finally, I pause and reflect on Christmases past. The open houses, the shopping, the decorating, the cooking, watching Christmas Vacation, and the presents – yes, the presents. And that always takes me back to one particular Christmas – one particular present. Oh, and one particular Christmas tree.
My mom LOVED Christmas. She would tastefully decorate the house from top to bottom. Every present was meticulously wrapped with a handmade fashionable bow. The tree was always a masterpiece – a work of art. Every decoration was placed with care and the ultimate finish was the angel on top. Because she loved the holiday so much there were so many details – all the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed.
I was a young sprout somewhere around six or seven years old. You know as we get older, some things get a little fuzzy. I know I was young and I don’t believe my sister was with us – she is younger than me. Anyways, dad was ready to go pick out the Christmas tree. We always went to the same location and we would survey the premises searching for the biggest, bestest, prettiest Douglas fir. Dad spied one and I nodded in agreement. We loaded her up and took her home. Dad brought it in the house and set it in the stand in the dining room in front of our big bay window. Ahhhh….it was beautiful and smelled amazing. We were all excited – until – mom walked in. She circled around the tree, came back to the front, then circled around the opposite direction, came back to the front and announced, “I don’t like it – take it back!” I turned my head so fast I gave myself a headache. What? She does not like it?! And, we are taking it back? For the next few minutes, words were exchanged between my parents as I stood there in disbelief wondering how do you take back a live Christmas tree? You can’t put it back in the ground, can you? Words were still flying, hands were waving in the air, and there were several exasperating sighs. Before I knew it, we were loading up that tree and taking it back to select a new one. After our second trip home, this particular Douglas fir received an astounding “that’s it – I love it” from my mother…and all was well in our little brick home.
My dad prided himself on taking the time and selecting just the right Christmas presents for my mom. There was a particular dress shop that he would frequent to find the prettiest outfit for mom…I think he liked going there because they would serve him coffee while they showed him multiple outfits. But, this particular Christmas, he had something else in mind. My sister and I were teenagers by now and involved in many activities. Mom worked full-time so some days there was not a lot of extra time to have for herself. Dad’s bright idea was to get her something that would make life more…convenient…for mom. I told him it was a bad idea. She had a rule about presents and he violated it, well, he desecrated it, he blasphemed against mom’s unwritten laws!
Christmas morning arrived and we were pretty much done opening our gifts when dad tells mom there is one more. He puts this heavy large box in front of her. The woman who loved Christmas looked like a child in front of the candy shop. She commented on the size of it and wondered what it could be. As she opened the box, my sister and I were in shock and awe mode bracing ourselves while dad is smiling cheerfully. That woman – our mother – whose eyes were filled with the Christmas Spirit suddenly lowered her eyebrows, looked more like Ebenezer Scrooge, and defiantly said, “What did you do”? Mom did not like appliances as presents because they were something that you could buy any old time. They were not special present-worthy; therefore, no appliances as gifts. But, in front of her was the King Daddy of them all – a brand new microwave! They were becoming very popular and dad thought it would make a wonderful gift – you know just like the Jelly of the Month Club “Clark that’s the gift that keeps on giving”…because it would make meal prep quicker.
To dad’s credit, he was trying to make things easier on her, but she wasn’t buying it. He told her she would love it by the end of the day. My sister and I laughed out loud! We set it up on the kitchen counter and told her we would use it to make baked potatoes for supper. She was not impressed and in her own way she let us know how VERY unimpressed she was. The fluffy quick as a wink baked potatoes did not win her over – in fact, she refused to eat one…she could be stubborn like that (don’t know where I get it from). From that day forward, it became known as the Year of the Microwave.
Mom was always very true to who she was. If she did not like something, she would let you know. Likewise, if she loved something she would equally express her gratitude. Christmas was her thing – that never strayed. So if you have to return a fresh-cut Christmas tree or denounce a fancy microwave as a gift, don’t apologize. You might just be staying true to who you are.
Until next time,
-Molly