| Hop on Pop. I loved the book as a kid. This was from Sean. |
One might say it is a Christmas miracle.
Mock it if you wish.
But the significance of a Christmas Tree in my home is no small thing.
The tree itself is a relic, dating back to a time when I was married, and it served as a second tree for us. As I recall, it came from a store where they were getting ready to throw it out.
So it got claimed.
After the various machinations of life -- relocation, etc -- it came to be Sean's while living at his mother's. Last year, he said he wanted to move it to Greenwich.
I couldn't say no. I wouldn't say no.
So he brought it here, well into the season, we lit it up, and it sat there until just after the first of the year. We didn't put ornaments on it, but there was a certain amount of joy regardless.
Oh, I've buried some stuff here, haven't I? Christmas and the season post-Thanksgiving have long been an issue for me. My dad loved Christmas, so I put on a happy face every year to keep Mom going after he died. It seemed like the right thing to do. Keep up appearances.
Eventually, I was blessed with Sean, and of course, I wanted all of his days to be merry and bright.
He grew up, and times changed. With Mom getting older and holiday events being anywhere but at her house, the tree tradition just stopped.
Sean still had a tree at his mother's house, and we were sort of OK with all of it. Plus, the holiday season just became this thing that we survived.
Of course, after Mom passed in 2020, neither one of us was in any great rush to put a tree up. The emotional weight of her loss made that an easy call, combined with the inevitability that we'd move and the living room being loaded with stuff.
Again, we'd keep up appearances, but the family part of it changed. Of course, our address would also change with the move to Greenwich.
I'd do little things each year, like put up a few holiday-related items, even if just for a chuckle. I'd work in our Waffle House Christmas mugs along with our WSNO radio station model.
A small tree -- Mom had one of those fiber optic ones, might also come out as a nod to her minimalist approach toward the end of her life.
The ornaments, however, stayed in a bin.
Finally, Sean brought the tree here last December. There would be no presents under it -- a result of economic realities -- but it was there.
What we would do is treat ourselves to a trip as a present. But, yeah, times were really tough. We're still not exactly on easy street either.
We put the tree back in our basement last December, and it stayed there. I didn't give it much thought until Sean reminded me.
With this year -- and maybe a renewed sense of life -- I said it was time to reach into the time capsule of ornaments.
Bugs Bunny, Derek Jeter, Mickey Mantle, Fred Flintstone, Goassamer the monster, The Beatles, and myriad sports ornaments dot the tree. The Hop on Pop ornament -- a gift from Sean to me when he was little -- is clipped in place. Other nostalgic trinkets, dating back before I was born, are in their rightful place.
There's even a WGCH ornament, from the brief era that we also owned WVIP out of Mount Kisco.
It's minimal. It's leaning slightly. It has an angel topper that was created, probably back in the mid-70s.
It's perfect for us.
Oh, please. Go ahead and call it a Charlie Brown tree. I've already said it.
But it's also like Mom and Dad are here.
And, you know what?
I'm here also.
And that's how it should be.
*****
I'm off to England tomorrow morning. For the first time since 1999, I won't be on a Greenwich football playoff game. I was on the semifinal win over Fairfield Prep as the sideline reporter (!) in '99, before John Connelly called the championship win over Southington.
I've called every playoff game since.
Monday night, Dan Murphy will be in the lead seat as the Cardinals play -- yup! -- Danbury. He'll also likely be solo, as no one on the roster is available. Chemistry matters, and I reached out to people I trust.
I trust Dan. He'll be great.
I'll miss it. But I'll be in the UK.
Game time 6:00 on WGCH and -- yes! -- Robcasting.
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