A good Christmas

When we bought this North Carolina house, we loved the woods around it.  We did not, however, examine these woods very closely.

While we were moving into this house, we went out on the screen porch to sit and rest a bit.  I noticed that the woods were closer than I had realized.  One tree in particular was incredibly tall, and close.  Sitting on the screen porch, I had the feeling I could reach out and touch that giant tree.  Of course I couldn't, but it gave that feeling, a very, very close feeling.  It shot up like a telephone pole, only farther.  It had no branches until it ascended above the canopy of the other trees, and then it extended a small bush of greenery like a plume above a hat.

I noticed, on that move-in day, that the giant tree swayed forebodingly when the wind blew.

I loved that tree, but I was also afraid of it.  I thought we should take it out, but I couldn't bear the thought.  On stormy nights, it always haunted me.  I often prayed that it would not fall on our house.  I once read an Anne Tyler book about a man who lost his wife when a tree fell on their house.  That book came back to me many times, as I lived under the shadow of our tallest tree.

On December 23, we had strong winds.  I told Shawn that I would really like a generator for Christmas, and asked if he would find me one, "today." 

I ought to have prefaced this by saying that we did not do much about presents this year.  I am completely over the whole Christmas present tradition.  We are so rich, as a culture; we have everything we want or need.  Whenever we want or need something, we immediately get it for ourselves, usually from Amazon.  There is no delayed gratification, no waiting until Christmas like there used to be in the old days.  We have so much stuff, we actually have a much greater need of getting rid of things than of procuring them.  Our houses are stuffed to the gills and need to be cleared.  There are entire books, blogs and "courses" devoted to teaching people how to purge useless material items from their lives.  This year I decided to get my kids something very small but hopefully fun or useful, so they would have a package to open, and then accompany this with a monetary gift in (I hope) a significant amount.  So anyway, Shawn and I had agreed to not buy anything for each other.  But on December 23, I felt a deep desire in my soul for a generator, and I asked him to get us one. "It can be our gift to each other," I said.

Shawn headed out to Harbor Freight. Shannon had graced us with her delightful presence, flying in from Boston, so she and I headed to the gym. Shannon and I arrived home before Shawn. I was in my bedroom, cleaning up post-workout, when I looked out the window and saw Shawn in the backyard.  It surprised me to see someone back there, but my startled nerves calmed when I saw that it was my own husband.

He came in after a bit and asked, "Have you looked in the backyard?" I replied, "I saw you in the the backyard." Well, turns out he was in the backyard because, upon driving up to the house, he noticed immediately that our tall tree had fallen.  I ran to the window, and joy flooded my being: The tree fell, and it fell away from the house.  Shawn is sad because he loved that magnificent tree. But I am tremendously relieved that it is down.  Also, now we will be able to measure how tall it was; I've always wondered.

Also we were the proud owners of a new generator.  And the next morning, Christmas Eve, we woke up to a power outage and had to use our generator right away.  We made coffee, connected the internet, plugged in the refrigerator, and even started up a little space heater.

What a great Christmas! And due to the downsizing of gifts, there was never any big mess to clean up, either.

I have struggled to wrap my heart and mind around the true meaning of the birth of Christ this year... not that I don't believe it.  I absolutely do believe!  It's just that my affections were not engaged the way I would have hoped.  I will write about this more, in 2023.