MY FIRST CHRISTMAS ALONE

The following piece is an excerpt from my memoir, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels A Widow's Story of Love, Loss and Renewal. It's about facing my first Christmas alone after my husband died in 2000. My sister drove through the snow, to help me put up a small tree a neighbor had given me. 

I looked at my sister, “I can’t do this, Mary. It’s too hard.”

“We don’t have to trim the tree if you don’t want to.” I looked at the tree and thought about all the energy I had already invested in getting the tree in the stand. I figured it was too late to stop.

“Let’s keep going. Maybe once it’s decorated it’ll put me in the Christmas spirit.” Mary reached into the box and pulled out the strings of multicolored mini-lights.

We figured two strings would be more than enough. As we stepped around the tree, my sister draped the lights up and down the branches. The tree was so small that we decided to hang the lights and decorations mostly on the front side of the tiny tree. Besides, no one except the deer could see the back of the tree. With the lights draped on the branches, we hung the silver and blue balls John and I had purchased at Target for our first Christmas. Then we each took the family ornaments one at time and strategically placed them in safe places on the tree. The oldest family ornament was tarnished gold ball laced with tiny antique beads that our parents had purchased for their first Christmas during World War II.

Every year this special ornament had received the sturdiest branch. I gently hooked it on a thick branch at the top of the tree next to Angie, The Christmas Tree Angel, another antique that had been at the top of our family’s tree forever. As I stared at the old ornaments, I could see my siblings and me sitting on the living room floor at my parents’ home, opening presents one by one with Christmas music playing on the record player and reused wrapping paper and ribbons scattered all over the floor.

With all the decorations dangling from the branches and the gold garland in place, I filled the small metal stand with water and carefully arranged the new tree skirt with some gold stitching and the fringe along the edge my sister had made for me.

“Mary, the new tree skirt is perfect.”

“I had some of that satin material left over from a dress I made and figured it would make a great tree skirt. Well, should we turn off the lights and see how the tree looks?”

I walked over to the polished brass light switch and pushed the light off as Mary clicked the tree lights on. The tiny tree garnished with gold garland sparkled in front of the window.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” I tried to swallow my tears, but the tiny droplets filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “Thanks Mary. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” She told me I was a strong woman and that John would be proud of me. Standing in the kitchen, Mary pulled on her snow boots and coat. We wrapped each other up in a long hug. Before leaving, she suggested I join them for Christmas Eve. Not wanting to impose any more than I already had, I told her I would watch the weather forecast and think about it.

Read more of about my first Christmas and other challenges I faced along my grief path in my book, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels, at 

http://www.amazon.com/Twenty-Eight-Snow-Angels-Widows-Renewal/dp/1432777041 in kindle and paperback. 

Thinking of everyone who is facing that first Christmas after the death of a loved one.