The Aftermath of Christmas

Trimming the Tree alone never was our own family tradition but it has become mine sadly as Freya does not participate in the ritual.  She will bake while I trim the Tree, however, which has its own benefits and I do insist that she and I together place the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' ornaments from the Metropolitan Museum stocking that Ernst sent us long ago.  Now that she is at University, she could not participate in the aftermath of taking down the Tree even if she wished to do so.  She is no longer here for Twelfth Night and cannot place her shoes out for the Three Kings.  Thus, there are some traditions that are in abeyance at present.

Taking Christmas down, whether it is the Tree, the Nativity Creches or other household decorations, is a rather sad affair.  It does have something in common with the trimming of the Tree, though.  As one holds each decoration, one recalls where and when one first obtained it, whether as a gift or a purchase.  One remembers other Christmas seasons when the same ornament was or was not displayed.  This year, I brought out many of the most expensive and valuable decorations I had and which had not been displayed for at least a decade if not longer.   With only two days to Christmas when we finally brought home the 'primary' Tree, however, I never did trim it completely with everything I would have liked to have seen on it.  Now that I am putting it all in boxes for storage until next Yuletide, I am grateful that I did not hang more ornaments this year.

Many people no longer display live trees.  They complain about the dirt, about the needles, about the slow dying of the Tree in the house.  Instead, they bring out an artificial Tree.  Sometimes the artificial Tree has all the ornaments on it ab initio, thus eliminating the entire ritual of 'tree trimming'.

To me, all of that is contrary to the symbolism of the Christmas Tree, the Evergreen that originally was the soul of Attis.  I do like having a live Tree with roots that will continue to live after the Season ends, but I feel one must have a cut tree as well as the symbol of the sacrificed God.  In the best situation, one would go out to the forest to choose a Tree and then cut it oneself with an axe.  In this family, it is as much as I can do to persuade some one to take me to a lot where cut trees are being sold.

We did have a live Tree last year.  It was a small, generic pine tree but, as is usually the case where the Tree is potted, twice the price of its cut brethren.  Through the year, I tried to keep it alive on the deck... I worried about it while we were on the Queen Mary II but the lady who took care of the Puttikins watered the plants as well.  (Some one stole both of my beautiful Jack in the Pulpits from the garden while I was gone.  I had nurtured them for more than a decade and still grieve for that loss.)

In any event, we moved from that house at the end of September and my pleas to various individuals to bring the Tree to the new house fell on deaf ears.  Finally, AFTER Christmas but before the New Year, Freya and her boyfriend brought the Tree here.  The branches on one side are dead but I hope it can recover.  I set it on the porch and placed a string of white lights on it.  It is quite beautiful and the dead branches do not show.  More than that, however, it is a symbol of an unbroken thread.  It brings the past and the future together somehow.  I do not feel this new house is MY home but the presence of the little Tree does help.

Above is the little live tree from the old house, alight in its new location.  Unfortunately, when I attempted to water it a few days ago, the temperature was so low that the water turned to ice instantly and the Tree now is frozen to the floor temporarily!  It is quite lovely, though, despite its fragile health.  I do believe that plants, like animals and human beings have souls.  To allow this Tree to languish and ultimately die would have been a crime.  If it can recover and thrive, I believe I can thrive a little in this new environment.  At least, I live in hope.

The presence of the Puttikins here is the one true indication that it is my current abode, even though most of my books and some of my treasures still remain at the old house.  The Putti still are terrified of the other rooms in this house, although Cupid is more daring than the others.  I tried to persuade him to keep me company while I took down the Christmas decorations in the sunken room.  He quickly found the fallen fern fronds and devoured them, ensuring that he would be ill a few hours later.  His only other contribution was to hide under the Tree, squeezing his rather large form under the lowest branches, covering himself with pine needles that had to be combed out before I could return him to the Silly Room.