Holiday Reflections and Christmas Tree Dreams

Reflecting upon it, I suppose I gave up on Christmas when my father died.

Prior to that I always enjoyed Christmas. Much like many families, we had our own traditions for the holiday. When I was younger, it included church. As I got older, church faded away, but like many families we would wake on Christmas morning and exchange gifts. My sister and I always shared the same trait of being late shoppers. I remember going to Zayre or Venture (How many of y’all remember Zayre???), in the evenings before Christmas Eve, searching for the perfect gifts for family and friends. And then I would go home, and lock myself in my bedroom with rolls of gift wrap, ribbon and bows.

I used to love wrapping gifts, and I was good at it. Deciding which paper would go with which gift. Pairing patterns with the perfect ribbon, and finishing it off with a bow. You could compare my gifts to anything you’d see in a Marshall Fields window display, or under their fancy trees. I took pride in it, and always thought a fun job would be gift wrapping in some fancy store.

The last Christmas I remember genuinely enjoying was actually the Christmas before my fathers death. I was in Germany, deployed their with the Army National Guard. Outside of my father, I’ve never been exceptionally close with my family. I’ve always had a penchant for creating family amongst the other misfits and rogues that I crossed paths with. My time in Germany was no different.

I’m pretty sure I met Nicy while she was working, bartending at one of the bars the guys and I would frequent. I thoughts she was so pretty. Big beautiful smile. A very large, bright and vibrant personality. She was curvy, and with her accent had the sexiest smoky voice, whether she was speaking in English or German. While I can’t exactly recall how we first became friends, I imagine it was through her friend Anika and Anika’s girlfriend Sara. Sara was a small, spritely kind of young woman with a huge smile and also a large personality. Very inviting, willing to talk and have a drink with anyone.

Before I knew it, the four of us were hanging out, and when Anika and Sara’s relationship ebbed and flowed, it was the three of us; Nicy, Anika and I. Nicy was a single mom, of a beautiful little boy named Philip. After spending time together, and seeing how needing a babysitter would sometimes be a point of stress, I offered up my services. A little known secret is I’m actually pretty good with children. An even lesser known secret is I ran a babysitting business while in high school.

While most guys were out in various parts of Germany destroying their livers and in many cases still forming brains, I would spend Friday and Saturday nights babysitting for an angelic little fellow. We’d watch TV, play games and play toys. I remember Nicy’s apartment being warm and inviting. At a very reasonable hour, I would tuck Philip into bed with his bottle. Sometimes I would lie down with Philip when he was especially fussy, or feeling curious, and we’d both fall into the wide arms of slumber. Some nights I would awake to Nicy on one side of Philip, I on the other. On the best nights, because of how Philip and I may have fallen asleep on the bed, I would wake up with Nicy spooning me, or our backs touching.

That Christmas Eve of 2004, I spent the night at Nicy’s if I recall correctly. I imagine she was working that night. But Christmas Day, it was Nicy, Philip, Anika and I sitting around the Christmas tree. We laughed, and exchanged gifts, and ate cookies, Spekulatius…It made me giggle whenever Anika said that word. I imagine we probably drank gluhwein or maybe milch und honig. It felt like family.

After my father’s death, it just never felt the same. He was always the center of family celebrations. He was the glue that brought family together. Even when members of my family didn’t get along with each other, everyone got along with my father. I’d spend Christmas morning, after my mother, my sister, my nieces and I opened gifts awaiting his arrival. He would always come by and spend some time laughing, and joking, and storytelling. My father told the best stories.

He was very laid back, and much like me, he didn’t like a lot of fussing. My family is made of fussers. He was never into that, so I knew it would be to a minimum when he was around. I don’t remember my father ever giving me a gift. He would hand me some cash. He’d tell me to save some, have some fun with some.

I don’t even think my family got together the first Thanksgiving after his death. It was just all too much. I imagine Christmas was much the same. My sister, much in our fathers spirit would visit relatives and her friends on those holidays. I just folded into my books….into myself.

This year, I had Thanksgiving dinner with a friend and her family. They were all lovely, and bright, and laughing. I had a great conversation with her nephew. Some of his favorite rappers are from Chicago (King Von, Lil Durk). We talked hip hop, lyricism, beats. My face hurt from smiling and laughing.

In the midst of all the pleasantness, I found myself repeatedly gazing back to her tree. Her tree was large and lovely and I happened to notice the box it came in when I arrived at her place. I asked her about it, and told me where she got it. She also told me that the price was very reasonable. I decided right then and there I would order one, which I did a day or two later, as well as some decorations to go on it.

Even as I type this, I’m sitting next to my first ever Christmas tree. It’s a 6-foot-tall Alberta Spruce. It’s pleasant, as you can see in the thumbnail photo. I’m trying to find the joy and pleasantness of this season again…particularly in the wake of Covid-19. We need as much joy and light as we can get nowadays. Right?

This evening I decided rather than sitting in my apartment by myself watching Netflix or playing Playstation, I would go downtown and attempt to catch some Christmas cheer. It worked. I smiled. I enjoyed the street performers, the lights and all of the trees.

Tomorrow I’m getting together with a friend to bake cookies. She is also one of those people who is a holiday fool. I don’t doubt she will answer the door of her house with a Santa hat on and a huge smile. She’s good people, and that’s what I need as I try to discover things I’ve lost.

Happy Holidays folks.

Do you celebrate during the holidays? Do you have any traditions that you especially enjoy or practice? If so, let me know down in the comments!