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.


Is it broken?

April 11, 2010

ONE chore that any parent has whose kids are provide with an orgy of excess is the cleaning of ToyBoxesBins.

Through time, they’re rolls change. New toys break and some lines, like Littlest Pet Shop have crazy tiny accesories that moms and dads across America vacume up and throw away, those that survive linger at the bottom of the receptical with pieces of puzzles and broken crayons; scraps of paper and stickers long lacking in adhesion. Having multiple children yields at least one possible fate for the missing sock; the bottom of that bin.

Today, I took on that task and found a long forgotten toy recieved for a birthday or Christmas. It is a collection of little doll figured about the size of a Polly Pocket. But you don’t dress these; they’re disected like little Black Dahlia’s and to change their outfits, you swap heads and waists with torsos. I’m disserning enough to realize that these little odds and ends of bodies are actually not broken. My wife; not so much. I just wanted to take the time to acknowledge how bad a concept this toy is.