Life of the Tree

I had a beautifully peaceful day. I had run a few errands through the morning, but the afternoon had belonged to me. I had retreated to my little reading nook in my bedroom with my latest book purchase and a sneaky afternoon glass of wine. I didn’t often get this sort of time. I am one of those people that can always find something to do, but this afternoon, everything got pushed aside. This time was mine and I was determined to enjoy it.

I had been with my own thoughts all day, enjoying the quiet I had, when suddenly, the peace I had been enjoying was shattered. The front door slammed, loud voices were heard, but in my own way I was excited about what I knew was coming. What was coming, was here. The kids were home from school, and I could hear the chatter. 

“Tree-time”

“Seriously Grace, how old are you again? I thought you were 14.”

“Charlie, it doesn’t matter how old I am, it’s still Christmas month and it’s still tree-day and I can be excited”

“It’s ok Grace, I’m excited too. Can you take my bag and put it in my room, and I will get the tree and decorations for us?”

Grace grabbed Charlie’s bag from him and took the stairs two at a time. I stuck my head out of the bedroom door as she reached the top. I smiled at her and she smiled back. No words were needed. We all knew December 1 was a special day, a family day. We usually decorated the tree together, the kids, me, and my husband Sam, but Sam was running late today and suggested the kids start without him. What the kids did not know was that Sam and I had a plan. 

The decorating of our Christmas tree has long been a family affair, tradition you might say. Years ago, Sam’s parents did the tree. They passed it to him and his sister. Then it came to our house. It was a job we usually did together. This year, what the kids didn’t know, was that the life of our Christmas tree was being handed to the next generation. Sam and I were no longer going to be part of the team; the tree was for the kids to do. Decorate how they want and put the tree where they like (it had to be in a communal area, was the only rule.) I sat them both down and explained what was happening. The kids looked at each other, smiled, and then the banter started. 

“About time really Charlie, don’t you think?”

“They never really understood the style of our tree, did they Grace?”

“I mean seriously, do adults even know what stylish looks like?”

As Charlie was about to launch into his next tirade of how adults knew nothing about style, I left them to it. Grace put on her Christmas music playlist and I retreated to the kitchen.

As I sat at the kitchen table watching them work, I smiled to myself, proud of the little humans that Sam and I had made together. They were always close; I loved seeing that. Everything in life, they loved to do together. I knew how lucky I was to have that in my house, right in front of me. The two of them were laughing and singing along to the Christmas music. The box of decorations was on the floor between them while they worked together to get the tree to its full height. 

The tree stood tall, dangerously close to the ceiling if I’m honest. It was taller than both children, so they had retrieved the steps from their dad’s shed to make sure they could reach everything. Grace stood on the steps. That child never seemed afraid, she would and could, tackle anything. There was never an ounce of fear in her, if there was it never showed. Her brother stood holding the steps below her, part of him was holding them for the job in hand but there was a little part of him that was protecting his sister too. He did that a lot, thinking that Sam and I weren’t watching, but we were. 

The tree stood tall. It was ready for the decorations. Grace and Charlie reached for the box of decorations at the same time, laughing together. The decorations were opened and madness ensued. We had so many decorations in our box. An ordinary person might look at them and visualise lots of random ones, but there was more to it. 

Grace and Charlie often picked up ornaments themselves from the box with a quizzical look as if to say, ‘why do we have you?’ I often wondered whether they knew what their tree was telling them. Did they realise the life, and the story of their tree? Maybe this was the year that it started to come together for them. Maybe this was the year they learned what it all meant. 

Grace and Charlie leant into the box. I could hear them talking together. “Let’s get them all out and see what we have,” said Grace. Her brother smiled and his eyes glistened, the way they do when you really see the happiness reflected. “Yes’’ he agreed. “If the adults are passing this tradition to us now, then it’s going to be the best tree we have ever had.”

The two of them sat together on the floor and sorted the ornaments. There were several with dates on, just years, nothing else. There were 4 that had years, months, and days. There was a United Kingdom flag, an Australian flag, and an airplane. There were several ornaments that looked quite old. There were the obvious handmade ones at school. There were an AFL player and a ball. There was a ballet dancer with her ballet shoes. There was a Ute ornament, a double decker bus and a train. There was every Australian animal you could think of. There were ornaments that were photo frames. They were filled with a variety of images. So many ornaments, now it was time to decorate. 

Grace and Charlie clearly had their favourites and that was easy to see. Charlie grabbed the AFL ornament while Graces hand grabbed the ballet dancer. Charlie went for the Ute while Grace grabbed one of the animals. As I sat and watched them, it was easy to see that this was just “fun” for them. They had no idea what the different things represented. If Sam and I were to hand this tradition on, then it was up to me to make sure it was done correctly. I had to show my children their tree, explain its life, and how special it was. I had to hand it on properly. 

“Hey guys” I said as I walked towards them. At first, they didn’t seem to hear me, so I reached out to them, touching them on their shoulders. “I want to ask you something,” I said. They both looked at me and their facial expressions very clearly said ‘seriously, now?’ I stood in front of them, right in their eye-line. “Do you understand your tree? Do you know why dad and I gave you this job?” The two children looked at me as if I had lost the plot completely. 

“You said it was up to us to decorate, didn’t she Grace”

“It’s more than that guys, do you have any idea what I’m trying to tell you?”

“No” said Grace quizzically. 

“Got me!” said Charlie. 

Now I knew I had their attention. I had asked a question, and they were now curious. All I had to do was tell them the story. The story of their tree, the life of their tree. 

            I walked with them to the tree, and my first job was to remove the few ornaments that had already been put on. “Mum, seriously, what are you….” said Grace. “Be quiet and hear me out” I said, probably a little too sternly. The three of us stood at the tree, which was now bare of any decorations. “Every decoration on this tree means something, every single one. They are attachedto a place, a time, an event, or a person. They are not just random ornaments that your mum liked and bought you know!” I looked at my two children who were looking at me as if to say, ‘go on, prove it.’ 

            I knew I had to keep their attention. What better way to do that, than with something related to one of them. I picked up a date ornament. “2007, what does this mean?” I spoke. You could almost see the light bulbs flashing over their heads. “I was born” said Charlie, smiling. “Always worth remembering”

I picked up the next one. “This should be easy then, I said. 2009?”  Grace laughed and shouted “Bingo, I was born.” I picked up another ornament. This one said 2000. “Any takers?” I asked. “You married dad” came the reply in unison. I smiled to myself as I could see they were starting to get it. I picked up the last one before I left them to it. I waved the ballet dancer decoration above my head and smiled. Grace laughed and I was treated to an impromptu display like when she was young. 

            “Do you get what I’m trying to say, both of you?” I said. They nodded and went back to decorating. I went back to the sofa and discreetly watched and listened. They were taking it in turns to pick ornaments and guess what it was related to. Charlie picked up the UK flag and showed his sister. 

“We were born there, that’s easy” Grace reached over and held up the Australian flag. Before she had said anything to Charlie he said “we live here, too easy”

            It now was becoming quite funny to watch them figuring out what was what. Grace looked at the ornaments again and picked up the double decker bus. “Wasn’t dad a London bus driver for a while Charlie?”  Her brother nodded. They picked up the photo frame ornaments, hanging them carefully on the tree. I could hear them laughing as they realised who was who.

            “Wow, is that Grandad?”

            “Show me. Yes Grace, it is. It’s Mum’s dad.”

These conversations continued until the tree was completely done. Grace and Charlie came and stood on each side of me. It was at that moment I knew they got it. They understood. 

“The Christmas tree’s life is our life isn’t it. It is the story of us.”