I went out with my dad last night. We caught dinner and went back to his place. See, I told him I'd help him put up his Christmas Tree. I hadn't helped him put up his tree since I'd gotten married. Although to be fair, last year was the first time he'd put up a tree in 5 years.
This time of year has not been kind to my family.
I was glad to be there last night with my dad. We went up in the attic and brought all the Christmas stuff down. I hadn't even been in the attic in years. There was my wedding dress. 2 graduation gowns. My dollhouse that Dad and Lisa had build. Magazines and books and toys and stuffed animals and more barbie stuff than you could count. It was amazing.
Searching through the Christmas tub, I found mountains of decorations I forgot existed. I found Micah and my's stockings. The ornament we bought in '96 when us kids moved in with Dad and Lisa. Our cactus ornaments. The cross-stitch I made when I was 12. A paint by numbers village that we once set up on a pile of cotton to look like snow.
I did not find lights. Bummer.
So we put off the actual tree decorating for another day. But we lit a fire in the fireplace. Turned off the lamps. The tree sat, dark in the corner.
Oh, Christmas.
I'm not a huge fan of you.
I know it's Jesus's birthday and all that but....
Needless to say, I'm not putting a tree up at my place.
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