How a Christmas Tree Became a Member of the Family
Holiday decorating is a Big Deal in my family. My mom has always adhered to a strict schedule: Autumn decorations go up on September 1st. Halloween joins the fun on October 1st. On November 1st, the ghosts are laid to rest once more, and Thanksgiving turkeys and cornucopias fill in the holes they leave behind.
And on Black Friday, instead of going shopping, my mom and I put all the other holidays to bed and wake up winter/Christmas from their long slumber.
Yes, I, a 31 year old woman with a husband and children of my own, still follow a decades-old tradition. No matter how hard I fought to avoid it, I have become my mother in almost every single way.
That’s just how it works out sometimes.
In 1996, when I was six years old, my parents moved us out of the trailer court and into a house. My mom wanted something special to mark the occasion, so she bought a new Christmas tree. A giant Christmas tree. See the above picture for reference. It’s eight fee tall with 2,500 tips and takes up a lot of room.
We call it The Beast.
I’m not ashamed to say I’m emotionally attached to it. I’ve been helping my mom set it up and decorate it for 25 years. During my mom’s battle with cancer, I did it all by myself. She even let me borrow it the first…
