Took down the Christmas tree this afternoon. We’d had our tree up since we cut it down (again this year at Rosemont) back on November 28th and it was still in terrific shape; it was taking water regularly, and had dropped hardly any needles at all. It felt a shame to have to undecorate it already, but with today being the final day of a long Winter break before back to work tomorrow, time will soon be consumed with other things so today was the day. Taking down the tree is always a sad event for Edith, and this year, I think more than most, she really would have liked the tree to stay up just a little bit longer.
I don’t know if there is an official name to today – the day one takes down their Christmas tree – but it is always time consuming. First, I have Edith and the kids leave the house so I can work without interruption. Second, I’m a bit obsessive compulsive by nature, and I have a need to carefully hand-wrap in tissue each and every glass ornament I remove from the tree before I place them into the styrofoam peanut ad bubble wrap lined plastic bin labeled “Glass Ornaments” that serves as the ornaments home in our attic for 11 months of the year. The less-fragile ornaments (yes, the plastic bin actually is labeled “Less Fragile Ornaments”) takes considerably less time, but the 17 piece ceramic Nativity set, hand made many years ago by Edith’s Aunt, also gets the tissue-bubble wrap treatment.
My job each year is to of course cut our tree (and to teach Will how to eventually take over the task,) tie it onto the roof of the car, bring it into the house and get it setup in the stand, and then proceed to string it with lights. For years, Edith and I disagreed on our tree lights: I like the simplicity of white lights, whereas she likes multi-colored lights, until one year, I came up with the idea to take a strand of white lights and a strand of colored lights and to string the tree with them intertwined. The effect is quite beautiful, and a keeps us both happy. Once the lights are strung and the star is placed on the top, however, I leave the ornaments to Edith and the children, only to return once the tree-decorating is complete. Our trees are among the most beautiful, each and every year.
We’ve accumulated a mix of ornaments over the years, and we’ve even got a “Retired Ornaments” bin for those ornaments that no longer find their way to the tree. I’ve got a couple of ceramic ornaments from my very first Christmas at Mellon back in ’85, hand made by Asst. Manager Sue Biddle in her home kiln; ornaments given to me by my UCTC/CoreStates tellers: Johanna Szillery, 20 delicate snowflake ornaments, hand-crocheted by her Hungarian college-professor mother; a little Fimo clay star from Lisa Erikson; a stained glass rose window ornament from Larissa Marone.
Edith and I both have inherited ornaments from our families – ornaments that hung on our childhood trees, or the trees of our grandparents; ornaments from our youth, ornaments we collected while we were dating (two favorites, a pickle and a red heart, we purchased at one of our trips to Winterthur’s Christmas House tour) and after we were married and started a family. This un-decorating time for me is my opportunity to take pause with each ornament and remember my brother who gave us those clip-on kitten and pinecone ornaments, or Edith’s friend who gifted us on our wedding with an enormous collection of glass ornaments to start out on our first tree, or William’s cinnamon and apple sauce ornaments he made in Precious Pandas now 7 years ago, or my sister and neice who gave us the TandyTake ornament, or the cowboy jalepeno ornament I bought on our vacation in the Outer Banks, or the 1996 WS Champion Yankees ornament I bought for Edith way back when (the one she says that when she received it, she knew that I really loved her) and of all of the many other special ornaments that remind me of the people and places and events that get lost in the routine of daily life. I think I agree with Edith – this year, I would have liked to hold onto the special memories held in the branches of our Christmas tree just a little bit longer.