Empty Nest -- Empty Tree

We finally got lights and the most basic decorations on our tree. I use the term "we" loosely because the husband did most of it while I was addressing Christmas cards. Like those old Shake 'n Bake commercials: "I helped." I got the tree. I had all the lights and decorations hauled up and ready to go, thanks to Houseboy.

There's a reason we could not bring ourselves to decorate the tree (although the house decorations look very nice.) Every ornament is a memory. It's one of my favorites the daughter bought me. It's the one the baby made in preschool. It's nine million of them with our names on them. It's a party we attended or a memento from a fun trip.

Still, the tree had to be dressed. I had people coming over. Plus, I like to throw one more obstacle for the oldies in the path between the dungeon and the kitchen.

So, the husband was kind enough to do it. Lights, red balls, gold balls and some tinsel. (I know no one uses tinsel any more but we're throw backs.) There is not a single personal item on this tree. It could go anywhere. It's very pretty but it's not us. We have decided to wait until the children of this home are home.

One of our rituals during the holiday is whoever gets up first has certain duties: Start the coffee, get the paper, turn on the tree and the wreaths.

The husband coined the phrase but now we're both using it. We look at the tree and say to each other, "Merry Impersonal Christmas."