Tuesday – I Tried

I tried.  I really tried.  I made it longer than I ever have.  Baby steps, I guess.

          

Sunday seemed like an extended Christmas, what with it being the Lord’s day too and all.  The Christmas tree stood an extra day.

            

I planned to leave the Christmas tree up until New Year’s.  That’s what Grace’s family does.  That’s what Ray’s family does.  That was what Calvin's family did.  I was going to try and let their tradition stand.

            

But . . .

            

I started tidying the kitchen by combining Christmas treats and putting them away in the red snack bucket that sits on top of the refrigerator.  In order for the snack bucket to look its best, it was time for the snowwoman doll that carries a load of twigs and branches with the scarf around her head to come down.  I moved her to the top of the piano.  Next I washed the smudged frosting out of the cookie jar which led to making sure the Christmas spoon holder on the top of the stove wasn’t hiding any gravy.  As each seasonal item was cleaned I thought how easy it would be to just wrap them and put them away.  Since the Christmas tree doesn’t stand in the kitchen it was still safe, it could stand.

            

I moved the nativity picture from the refrigerator then began to sort the Christmas cards in the dining room, making a pile to send to Abe of people he knows.  Which led to emptying my new chicken wire basket that Ande gave me, which meant it needed a new home – the center of the table.  But positively I was going to stop at that point.

            

And then the phone rang and I sat in the chair that faced the mantle.  The longer I looked at the mantle the more I missed the mantle clock being in its rightful place.  The mantle clock had been moved to the top of the piano when we put up the garland.  The phone conversation carried on . . .

            

If I took the garland down, moved the clock, and moved the snowwoman doll again, the tree would still be up, but the piano and mantle would look clean just like the kitchen.  The phone conversation carried on . . .

            

Down came the red berry and picks of white from the garland.  Down came the garland.  But now the Joy banner looked funny hanging from the mantle without garland.  Down came the banner.  Still the tree was safe.  Still the phone conversation carried on . . .

            

I sat back down in the chair and looked at the clean dining room, the clean piano, the clean mantle.  The tree.  It needed to go.  Without the backdrop of the garland lights the tree looked naked and drab.  The phone conversation carried on . . .

            

Down came the tree.

            

Still the conversation carried on.  It was with Ray.  He finally asked, “What are you doing?” 

            

“I just took down the tree.” 

            

“You are Cali’s mother aren’t you.”

            

“I am.  But Ray . . . it stood until two days after Christmas.  A time or two our trees didn't even make it to Christmas day.  The needles were so dry I was afraid they would catch fire.  And a few times our trees came down Christmas day.  I don’t know that one of our trees have ever made it two days after Christmas.  That’s what the 26^th is for.”

            

Grace came into the room after I hung up the phone.  She took one look at the clean empty corner and said in her half-laugh, half-cry voice, “Sad.”

I tried.

But the fresh evergreen arrangement from Calvin's mom is safe.  Even if I have to remove the red bow and berry picks and replace them with Easter eggs and pink ribbon I promise it will stand.