This Year’s Tree

This year’s tree is very different.  It’s the first time in seventy-five plus years that I’ve put one up alone. I didn’t like the way it felt.  I’m not sure I would have one at all if David and his family weren’t coming to Florida for a few days. But they are, so I do.  And to tell you the truth, it feels good.

When the kids were here for Ruth’s Florida Celebration of Life, and a decision needed to be made, we often asked, “What would Ruth do?”  I asked the same question to myself.  She would have put up the tree.

I’ve had several people tell me how difficult this Christmas will be.  I know they mean well, but I don’t need to be reminded.  This is no fun, so I’ve focused on Christmases past.  I recall our first three very clearly.

Christmas one was 1969.  We had only met the prior August, and we both were dating others.  There were no gifts exchanged. Our teaching staff was invited to Ken and Joey’s.  Ken taught with Ruth and me.  We had a party in their apartment, not far from the school.  Joey was a wonderful hostess, and Ken made sure those inclined to over imbibe behaved themselves.

We were dating by Christmas number two, so gifts were in order.  I bought Ruth a pewter mug, a bronze decanter with a pewter top, and a wine decanter wrapped in caramel colored leather.  She wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I thought the ensemble looked good together.  She did too.  They remained as a trio in our home decoration for several decades.  David displays them in his cottage now.

We were married by our third Christmas.  The city of Kalamazoo had a pedestrian mall during those years.  It was the first of its kind in the country.  You could walk from store to store across a mall that had once been a downtown thoroughfare.  The downtown shopping association held a “men only Christmas shopping night”.  My friend, Mike, and I went to look for gifts for Ruth. I did the shopping, and he helped me look.

We walked from store to store looking to become inspired.  Most of the stores served refreshments.  There were light hors d’oeuvres and shots of booze. We drank bourbon, Irish whiskey, and I had my first shot of tequila.  Mike and I followed the lady’s demo step by step.  Lick the salt, shoot the tequila, and suck on the lime.  We were excellent students.

We shot the tequila at Gantos so that’s where I did my shopping.  I found a girl about the same height and built like Ruth. I asked her to try on a few outfits for us.  The tequila shot reinforced my belief that this was a good idea.  I explained Ruth was long limbed and I wanted to be sure things fit.  The girl liked the attention, and it was a unique experience for us as well.  We had a great time.

Ruth opened her gifts the following week and they didn’t fit.  The legs on the slacks and the sleeves on the blouses were too short.  I couldn’t believe it.  Ruth and I went back to the store to make the exchange and the girl who helped me on “men’s night” couldn’t believe it either.  The two girls were exactly the same height. The gifts I bought were returned and replaced by others. Had everything fit, this is a memory that may have alluded me.  Mike and I went to men’s night the following year, but they were tequila free, and we never returned.

Not long after their Christmas party in 1969, Ken and Joey started a family.  They outgrew that first apartment and celebrate each Christmas with their two daughters and their families.

My friends, Don and Chuck, from the prior story are gone.  Mike’s gone too.  All three died way to young, Don in his thirties, Mike in his sixties, and we lost Chuck a couple of years ago. That’s the thing about life, none of us know how long we have.  We get what we get, and it’s our job to make the most of it.  That’s easy to say, but difficult to do.

Ruth’s passing is the hardest thing I’ve ever faced.  It’s left a void that won’t be filled.  Christmas is a time of reflection.  I savor the memories of Christmas’s past, but long for what might have been.