O Christmas Tree, O VHS Christmas Tree
Tree tales of past and present
After years of seeing other people's decorations, this year I finally decided to join in the fun and make my own VHS Christmas tree. That's right, it's a tree-shaped pile of nothing but VHS tapes wrapped in a few strands of colored lights. I should have counted as I pulled tape after tape from my overflow boxes of videocassettes, but this tiny tree easily contains more than 100.
I had hoped to find more Christmas-specific movies to add to the tree's structure, but only had easy access to a handful, so they went on top with Home Alone holding a forward-facing place of honor. I knew it wasn't much compared to other VHS trees I've seen displayed throughout the years, but folks really seemed to enjoy it when I shared the picture on Twitter.
We have a traditional Christmas tree in our house, so this one greets us at the base of our basement stairs leading into the game room. Although Halloween is my favorite holiday, I really love being able to decorate for Christmas. It really adds to the festiveness of the season and helps this special time stand apart from the rest of the year. Plus, I love when one of my hobbies can add to the fun.
I've seen bigger, I've seen better, but the warm glow that shines from this tree is mighty. Not only do the red and green lights set a calm, relaxing mood, but knowing that this tree was created just for fun excess makes me smile every time I pass it.
But this isn't the case for every makeshift Christmas tree.
Don't get me wrong. I have some awesome Christmas memories. Not only do I fondly remember some great Christmas presents over the years including a Nintendo Entertainment System, a slew of G.I. Joes, Transformers, and Ninja Turtles, but plenty of wonderful memories including snowy nights of anticipation, eating gumdrops from my Grandmother's plastic gumdrop tree, and laughing with loved ones around the annual Christmas jigsaw puzzle.
I don't remember my best Christmas growing up, but I certainly remember my worst.
My parents were separated at the time but still years away from an actual divorce (Wow! A child of divorce! A true '80s kid, I know!). There were good intentions on keeping the family together for Christmas I'm sure, but there was certainly anxiety about driving our car several states away to see my father for the first time in months.
When we arrived at my father's depressingly bare condo, I was in disbelief that it was completely devoid of any Christmas cheer. No twinkle lights outside, no greenery inside, but most obvious of all…no Christmas tree in sight.
My memory is clouded by time, so I don't remember how close to Christmas we arrived, but looking back, it feels as though our arrival may have been somewhat of a last-minute decision. At least I hope that's what it was and not just total indifference.
The friction between my parents hovered like a thick, invisible fog during our visit. I don't remember whose idea it was, but In an attempt to remedy the situation and provide a (distant) attempt at levity, a decision to improvise was made and a floor lamp was hastily moved to a prominent position in the tiny, featureless living room. There, its base was draped with a bath towel as an impromptu skirt and at the top, in lieu of a star, the lamp was adorned with a cheap, self-sticking gift wrap bow. This abomination would serve as the official family Christmas Tree.
I can't remember a single gift I received that year, but I do remember that my father's lack of planning extended beyond Christmas morning when it was time to think about food. My old man didn't lose a well-crafted culinary feast to a roving pack of dogs as depicted in A Christmas Story, there simply wasn't any consideration at all for the need to feed a family of four. With possibly only a jar of mustard in the fridge, we set out to find somewhere to eat.
Harkening back to A Christmas Story, you would think that we would have been able to at least find a Chinese restaurant on Christmas day, but we drove around for what seemed like hours. Eventually we stumbled upon a mid-level hotel that was offering a Christmas dinner for something like $29.95 per person, but my father deemed that was an outrageous price and drove away in a huff.
With no other options, limited funds, and two very hungry kids and a frustrated wife in the car, we rolled into Sheetz, a local gas station convenience store where we picked up sliced deli meat and a loaf of bread and headed home. As we dined in near silence on our turkey dinner, it turned out that mustard in the fridge came in handy after all.
I used to tell this story among friends and co-workers whenever the topic of Christmas calamities came up. There were lots of laughs when I would let this story build in a tale of one-upmanship among Christmas debacles, but there was also disbelief. That is, until I found photographic proof.
I'm glad I have this photo to prove my memory correct, but as I look at this photo, I cringe. Not because of the situation, but because I see myself playing my self-assigned role as the family comedian. I'm clearly hamming it up for the camera and probably told many jokes, smiling and laughing as the make-shift tree was cobbled together at night and sadly greeted us in the morning, completely trying to improve what was clearly a bad situation.
I really, really want to reach out to that smiling but hurting kid to let him know everything is going to be OK. That Christmas your dreams may not have come true, but down the line you could have more peace, comfort, and love than you could ever hope for.
These days my family regularly rotates between a real tree and a fake tree in our living room, but regardless of its status as formerly alive or not, the greenery is always adorned with years-worth of heirlooms, handmade decorations, or ornaments acquired with precious memories attached. My kids don't have to put on fake smiles and the only strife around the tree is when they go back-and-forth on whose turn it is to place the star on the top. There's never a question of whether our family will stay together, whether we'll have a homemade Christmas dinner, or whether we'll have a tree or not.
Heck, sometimes we even have more than one.