My Family Christmas Tree

My mother is particular when it comes to the interior decor of the family’s colonial style home. I am most grateful for this except for when it comes time to gift-give (souvenirs, Christmas, birthday, etc.). So I am usually elated when I find a gift suitable enough for my mother’s tastes. With the exception of a red apple scented candle from Yankee Candle that is still on display in the bathroom next to the kitchen, I have learned that trying to accessorize or decorate the Gavron house is a lost cause.

Well, the same rules of decorating engagement apply when it comes to the holiday season. Ornaments are selected and placed upon the tree using a number of criteria headlined by the likelihood of the tree will appear in next season’s Pottery Barn winter catalog. Years ago, my mother started a family tradition of wrapping two ornaments, one for my sister and one for me, that we would open with glee on Christmas morning. The ornament is comparable to the year in review; it captures the essence of the year. For example, there was the time mom purchased a pleasant Shrek figurine for me because that year I apparently reminded her of an ogre (okay, really, it was because I dressed as Shrek for my high-school’s rendition of the Shrek theme-song, I’m A Believer).

Decorating the Christmas tree has always been a full family effort. In my naïve years, the entire family would converge around the tree while Bing Crosby sounded from the speakers. Each of us would work together to decorate the Douglas Fir. After the family bonding hour expired, my mother would return to the tree and rearrange the ornaments to improve the aesthetics. Well, once I became aware of this inefficiency, I defied the family and put my foot down. No, I will not decorate the tree. You’re only going to strip the tree and re-outfit it. How do you think Douglas feels when you strip him naked in the front window for everyone to see?! So now, instead of decorating, I supervise. I usually sit on the couch in a state of supervision (or more probably woolgathering). I see it as a win-win-win. I supervise, my mom spends less total time decorating, and Douglas doesn’t have to get brought up on public indecency charges.

If I had to pick one consistent challenge the Gavron family tree faces each year, it would be the angel. On occasion, we have overzealously estimated the clearance of our living room and found the angel sitting rather snuggly (and probably smugly) no room for the halo, relying more on the Beyonce lyric I can feel your halo over I can see your halo. Also, this year, I learned that we tree-topped with a tainted angel. Apparently, when my grandmother passed, my mother exercised her prerogative and took our grandparents’ angel. Which was fine, until my grandfather’s Christmas tree stopped sporting an angel since he failed to find the family angel. Well, Catholic guilt overcame my mom, and the angel was returned to the rightful owner.

Overall, Christmas 2010 was a success. Not because my sister received double the number of gifts I received, but because it was the first year in recent memory where the Gavron family tree was both stolen-angel-free and Shrekless. (Our family couldn’t seem to locate Shrek this year…hmm…maybe my grandmother decided it was time for a little payback).