January 20, 2013

TODAY the tree finally came down. It was my chore to perform this year. From hand wrapping and boxing all of the ornaments and pulling the lights down off the tree.

I get a baseless sentimentality for the tree every year, looking on it as a temporary guest that gets discarded when he’s worn out his welcome. The visual manifestation of all that is primary and holy to me. His conversation having grown tiresome and scattered on the floor. That tree is a symbol of the season and that tree represents a lot of things. From the anticipation of a week off that starts somewhere in the hours between the end of Thanksgiving dinner and the start of Black Friday sales to the yearly trip to the Oglebay Festival of Lights.

That tree also represent this season as a moment in time. A moment that we will never get back.They will receded far into the rear view mirror to be replaced by other Christmases. Other beach trips, tragedies and trials.

And as I drag his brittle mass through the door I reflect on that all if that. I see it all at the same time; hear it, feel it and taste it. I wonder if I’m the only one in this family that feels this so deeply.

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