the thing about Christmas

...the last few years, was the box. That box of decorations that has not been touched since January of 2008. Nearly three years. Before, I could not bear to see the ornaments Carrie had made me, crafted from the sawed-off-trunk of the Frasier Fir. She would use the stump wedge to make an ornament, adding tissue paper or paint, sparkles and extensions. In December, 2008 I could not even look in the attic, where the box was. It would have sent me into a gloomy spiral. I decided against the tree, and, instead, decorated my mantle. Then in 2009, I could not go near the box again. This time, it would have unleashed fury, painting the holiday and my house with a black tar goop. A sticky, sludgy, hard-to-remove wrath. I decorated the mantle.

This year, it seems very possible, even probable that I could open the box, find those stump ornaments and just chuck them into the garbage. Not down into the ravine, or into Lake Erie, or burned in a cauldron for cleansing. I would just find those ornaments, and throw them into my green garbage bin. With the ends of the celery, the egg shells, the catalog from LL Bean, and the cable bill I paid online.

You see, Carrie does not have sway over me anymore most days. She is as immaterial as those living dregs I dispose of every day. I don't want to eat the horsey ends of celery. The egg shells are broken and contain nothing anymore -- the good yoke is gone. The catalog of options from LL Bean are unnecessary. I have a good winter coat, plenty of cotton turtlenecks, and treaded boats to use on slippery days. And the bill? Well, it's taken care of, the services have been rendered. So, too, with this person who promised she would love me until the day I died. There is nothing else good to reap from love or loss. I have ways to keep myself safe and protected, what she gave me is done. The time has passed.

There will be time for a tree. And all the wrangling that comes with it. The tree stand, the twisting of the bolts into the trunk. The wrestling to make sure it is straight. The disagreements whether to string the lights or the garlands first. The placing of the ornaments, some in front where they can be seen often and others relegated to filling up the back, the window side. There will be time for the messiness of love.

For now, it is December, 2010, and I have again decorated my mantle. Not to avoid something, but because this year, it is what makes me happy.