Part 1 of this series told a story in which my husband and I were on opposing sides. This story places us squarely on the same side and in need of throwing up the white flag hand in hand.
Our family excitedly looked toward putting up a Christmas tree in our new home. Our eleven foot ceilings inspired visions of a very tall tree in our new and different space. Our family set out on foot and traveled to a nearby tree lot and picked out a beautiful and big tree – they even delivered. We quickly realized that the stands that we owned would not be sufficient for such a tree, and dad ventured out to the local hardware store to purchase a more sturdy foundation.
As a family, we worked hard to get this big fir tree up and in place. My husband began stringing the lights, and I finished the hours long job the next day. We heard a few creaks and groans from the tree stand as we worked but were hopeful that it would do the trick. It did not. Mid-Saturday, there was a loud crash – the tree strung with lights had hit the deck.
We weren’t ready to give up on our vision, though my husband did hastily order a more heavy duty stand that wouldn’t arrive for at least a week. He and our youngest girl pulled the big monster outside, refastened the stand and gave it another try. I had the possibly hair brained idea of using some twine to fasten the trunk to our indoor shutters for a little extra hold.
The tree stood through the night and on into the next day as our 6’5”, youngest son and girl friend came to help us trim this giant tree. We were happy to be together with Christmas tunes playing in the background. Despite our sons’ conjecture that our stand and twine set up wasn’t stable enough, we forged ahead.
Twenty four hours later, I received a phone call from our security company saying that a “glass break” had been detected in our home. My mind immediately jumped to the tree. Just a short distance from our home, I was on the scene quickly. I carefully entered our home and realized that the “glass break” had actually been a loud tree stand creak and groan – the tree was leaning. I did my best to get it back upright but ultimately this five and a half foot aging body was overpowered by this monstrosity. I couldn’t stand there all day and wrestle the beast, so I eventually had to let go as the twine snapped and down she went. This time there was a big glass break.
I instantly saw that a few of my favorite glass ornaments were casualties, and I shed a few tears. This had been a big battle and the big tree won. We simply weren’t prepared. When our girls got home from school, we began picking up the pieces and assessing the damage. We were so very thankful to find one of our favorite ornaments – a Christmas pickle given to us by good friends – remained intact.
Overall, the damage was minimal and involved mostly the very replaceable big box colored glass balls we had bought at after Christmas sales. Several of the very old ornaments that we received from my grandmother survived. We untangled as much of the light and ornament maze as we could without lifting the heavy mass. We swept and vacuumed.
We called a family meeting at dinner that night. Some of us wanted to keep fighting to have a live Christmas tree in our new home. Some of us wanted to surrender and choose another route. In the end, there simply wasn’t time nor energy to continue the fight.
We posted this announcement on our neighborhood listserv: “Neighborhood rookies need to re-home a 9 ½ foot tree. Needs a really big stand. After hitting the deck, we need to go smaller until we get our heavy duty stand – next year’s project… Hope to find a loving and experienced home.” Within minutes, our giant tree had a new neighborhood dwelling place.
Several fellow neighbors have acknowledged to us that this same thing happened to them in their early big Christmas tree days. One suggested we saw off about two feet from the bottom and create a more manageable situation – a feat we had accomplished for many years. In the end, we decided to choose another pathway. We ordered a silver tinsel tree that we will display somewhere else in our home in years to come. Who knows? Someday it may become our one and only tree as more children grow up and out of our house.
But for now, our silver tree is filled with our girls’ special ornaments and twinkles in a window that shines out into our neighborhood. It stands about a third of the height of our dream tree, but it is ours nonetheless. It is freeing to surrender to the giant tree and choose a different path this year. There are lots of practical and spiritual lessons in this story – think foundations, planning, when to fight and when to surrender – I’ll leave those to each reader. The silver tree sits right next to Dickens’ village in our home. It is nice to be on the same team as my husband as we make peace and call a truce with our Christmas tree situation. Maybe next year, we will be ready to tame the beast….or maybe not.
