The Christmas Tree as a Totem

I don't know if it's because I'm of German descent, and Christmas trees originated in Germany, but we've always had a very strong Christmas tree tradition. My Grandma Burt, who died a few years ago a the age of 97, always had Christmas eve at her house in Wilson, New York. She was born in that house, lived there with her brother Walt. Walt was also born there, and died in the house several months ago while getting dressed. The family had lived there continuously since 1888. With Walt's death, the house and land will likely be sold and the Christmas eve gathering came to an end.

But I won't forget the Christmas tree they had. It was a work of art. Huge in every way. Tall as the high ceiling of the 170-year-old house, wide as the broad bay window it was placed in, and decorated to the hilt with ancient ornaments handed down over generations. These weren't ancient in the sense that my Uncle Walt's socks were, or in the sense that the worn out footstool or battered dog teddy bear was. No, these were ancient like a sparkling treasure locked away for a thousand years. I saw it once a year, and it made an impression.

My mother and father carried it on. We would get a huge tree each year, and we made it look a lot like my grandma's, at least from 15 feet away. It was just as bright. But it wasn't as mysterious and supernatural in its glory. Ours was ours. I felt some ownership of it, and admired it quite a bit. And I really looked forward to the presents that showed up there on Dec. 25.

I'm married now and have my own home, and I've continued to love the idea of Christmas tree. Like my parents and my grandmother, I buy a real tree. While the idea of putting up a fake tree is about as appealing to me as drinking expired milk out of a running shoe, I can't really fault someone else for wanting to do it. But the smell of the tree is for me something that my tree has in common with my parent's tree, the wonder-tree at my grandma's and real Christmas trees going back hundreds of years. Tradition might be a word for a fraction of what I'm trying to get at here.

But that's about where similarities between Christmas trees and their meanings end. If you read the Wikipedia article on the Christmas tree, it will soon become apparent that their origins were modest, and that as time went by their meaning and decoration varied greatly at any given time. It's no different today. There are plenty of folks who put up a fake tree trimmed with generic decorations. I don't know what that means. You're putting up a bristly piece of plastic covered in lights. You tell me. But as has always been the case, Christmas tree traditions are as varied as those who put them up.

Our tree has become a totem of my life together with my wife. A symbol of our family. Each year we buy or are given a new ornament or two that reflects the events  in our life. One year it was for our first marathon. Another was a year we held a Christmas dinner party in our 640-square foot house. We have an ornament celebrating our wedding. We have our first initials in white beads. We'll soon buy an ornament to commemorate the recent purchase of a wonderful new home (that's 3.5x the size of our current digs).

We pick a day to go buy the tree, when the night is free from one end to the other. Then the boxes of ornaments come out. We take the wrapping off and think back on our life together as we decorate the tree. We hope to continue this tradition of decorating with ornaments that remind us of where we've been, alongside the many ornaments that are simply pretty or seasonal. When I look at the tree I don't just see Wal-Mart. Instead, I'm reminded of how good things have been, and of how happy I am.

Merry Christmas

Some of our favorite ornaments: