You must know, I’ve been waiting for writing inspiration to strike me recently. Like inspiration was a possible thunderbolt and I’m posing as the lightening rod. And nothing. Until today when the simplest choices turned out to be the big thoughts I was waiting to catch.
The Christmas tree tradition was a big deal growing up. I remember the long car trips to tree farms in down parkas to chop down our own trees and then having hot cocoa and numb toes. Later, I remember haggling with the tree vendor in the frigid shade of the December world on Christmas Eve for two trees for 30 bucks so I could lash them together. And being very proud of that Charlie Brown tree. My sister put plastic forks and fiber fill on the tree and it’s the only one I remember being together for.
Today was our calendar designated fetching of the tree day. At noon My husband and I discussed the possible scenarios of long drives and money spent. And remembering how the tree is secondary to the little people’s happiness, I chose to press the Easy button and feel the definition of ease.
The tree was procured half price at the grocery store and then we drove to the local State park and ate a fried chicken picnic overlooking the muddy low tide river followed by playground playing. My husband remarked how it wasn’t always this easy in our days before children. I told him I had no idea back then. Before children, we act like idiots. We become different kinds of idiots after we have them.
The experience and memories of future Christmases are in my hand and we have a limited amount of moments to enjoy our lives and our children. Letting go of expectations of perfection and idealism makes such lovely room for experiencing the present.I have been grinning like an idiot all weekend reveling in the luxury that is this priority of happiness.
The weather was gorgeous. My children played on the playground. My husband was “off” he said. And that feeling slid us into our evening meal and our family movie. A day filled with ease achieved. Until the baby threw up her chocolate pudding in her crib at midnight. Sigh.
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