When I was little, we had a tradition of going to the Christmas Tree lot and picking out our Christmas Tree the weekend after we returned from Thanksgiving. I'm sure it's a familiar tradition for a lot of people: you pile into the car, scatter at the lot, pick out your choice and then spend the remaining time going around to each person's tree and trying to "sell it" to the rest of your family. It couldn't be too tall, too prickly, few holes (or at least it could be turned to the wall to disguise it). We did this EVERY year.
Until...we didn't.
One year, my mom had to go up to Oklahoma for some reason and we didn't have a tree. It looked like the tradition would miss a year. My memory of that time is sketchy because I don't remember if she was up there on weekends and then worked during the week, or if she was up there for a long time. I do know that we didn't have a tree. One day, my older sister suggested that we go on our own. She had a car, she could drive, and mom had left money for us to get a tree. So one Saturday morning, Sara, Kirsten and I loaded up in her car and drove to the Christmas Tree Lot. We'd been going there for YEARS and the owner remembered us and inquired about why it was just the three of us. Kirsten explained the situation, and we went off to find The One. We scaled it down because well, we realized what many children realize as they get older...that having to do it yourself changes your expectations. We hadn't really had any preparation or training for how to do this because our mom had always taken care of it. Up to that point, we just were passengers along for the ride.
We eventually settled on a small tree that could fit on our coffee table, was easy to transport, and would fit on top of Kirsten's car. The owner of the lot had the tree placed on top of the car and gave us instructions on what to do when we got home. He understood the situation and set out to help.
I remember that Christmas not because my mom was gone, but because my sisters and I did things together to make sure the season was just as fun. The rest of the story goes like this: my mom was up in Oklahoma on Christmas Day. My sisters and I woke up and got ready for opening presents, but it didn't feel the same. So we decided to pack up our presents (and my mom's) and drive to Oklahoma. Four hours later, we celebrated the day with my mom and grandparents. It was a fun surprise for my mom and a great memory for me.
This year, I bought a small live tree and decorated it with lights. For some reason, it makes me think of that time my sisters and I lugged a small tree home to keep a tradition alive.
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