I hope the pilots don't get confused
Leada Gore, Editor
I've heard there are times in a marriage – especially a new one – that can test its mettle. These tests are sometimes happy – the birth of a child, a job promotion that requires a transfer. Sometimes, these are traumatic things, such as the death of a parent or the illness of a child.
And then there are those times that defy either description, they are both happy and sad. That was the case Sunday evening when Greg and I started putting up our Christmas tree.
It was a momentous occasion. This was the first tree in our new home and our first tree as a married couple. It's a large tree, much bigger than the miniature one I've hauled around since my college days. That small tree could be decorated with three ornaments and some tinsel. The first time I saw the new tree I knew I would need more than those same three ornaments.
Knowing neither of us had the patience to put lights on the tree, we bought a pre-lit one, thinking it would be easy. Our first inkling that it wouldn't be was when we couldn't find how to link power cords on the bottom two sections of the tree together. Greg laid on the floor to look from below and I searched through the top branches. Finally, we located the plug (it was green, the same color as the tree making it difficult to find) and viola! We had lights. Lots of light. Fifteen hundred tiny white lights to be exact.
"This is blinding," I said. "Don't be surprised if three wise men show up at our door. They will think this is the bright light in the East."
"We probably should be careful," Greg said. "We do live near the airport and we wouldn't want the planes to think this was the runway."
We then pulled out box after box of ornaments. Some were new, some were old, some were broken in two.
We started hanging the ornaments, with me providing some advice on where I thought they should go.
"That's a nice one, hang it towards the front," I said. "That's an old one that I made in first grade out of the lid from a Pringles can. You can put it in the back."
And on and on.
Eventually, Greg tired of my decorating advice.
"How about I put them on the tree and you move them to where you want them to go," he said. His plan worked.
Finally, we were done. The tree was up and lit (really lit) and the decorations were hung with care. We turned out the overhead light and sat down on the sofa to look at the tree.
It was beautiful.
And then, from the very top, the white china angel toppled from her perch and bounced down the tree.
Plunk, plunk, plunk.
She landed safely on the tree skirt, amidst some packages.
I couldn't help but laugh.