Picture it.
The Christmas mixed tape is playing on the home stereo with the same songs I enjoy to this day; Jim Reeves, Buck Owens and The Chipmunks. Dad is bringing all the decoration boxes from the basement. In the box there’d be some miscellaneous newspapers from Christmases past which always mystified me. We assemble the Christmas tree and Dad strings the full size string of lights carefully on each branch. The sky is a rose gold in the setting sun, the snow outside is light and sparkly and there’s the faint smell of the heat from the lights touching the plastic branches. They don’t make candles to recreate that festive smell do they.
It’s nineteen-eighty-something and completely magical.
There were some Christmases that we had two Christmas trees. We had the artificial one in the basement and a real tree upstairs. Dad’s brilliant trick to filling in the bare spots on the real tree was to take a branch from the bottom, drill a hole where the bare spot was and attach the branch. It’s a trick I think he got from my Grandpa.
The decorations were a mixture of shiny baubles, felt ornaments and things we made. One decoration was always a small bell with a blue ribbon that I think had something to do with my brother (his birthday is Christmas Day) but I don’t know what. There was silver garland and not tinsel because that was too messy. The tree topper was a multi coloured star. At the bottom of the tree rested a small plastic manger scene.
Some years Dad would want to hang streamers and foil stars from the ceiling. Mom would protest…”what are you doing that for?”…but often let him get his way. There’d be a wreath that hung on the back door window that made the curtain puff out kind of funny.
My fuzzy Christmas stocking would rest on the arm of the couch. We didn’t have a fireplace or chimney. I hoped Santa had a key.
It was probably a Sunday evening in December and when we were done we’d sit in the dark with just the retro glow of the Christmas tree and soft music playing. The next morning, getting ready to go to school, the tree would be lit up in its comforting glow in the coolness of winter.
Everything would be ready and waiting for Mr Claus’ annual visit.
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