Process or Product?

Today, for about the 5th year in a row, I thought that if we had a fake tree, we could put it up this weekend. The boys would love that, it's such a great way to kick off the holiday season. We'd love that it would be easy, with perfectly spaced lights, and that it would last more than the 2 weeks Craig and I can manage to keep a real tree going (we have watering issues, well, more like remembering issues). And really, fake trees are so amazingly well done these days, you definitely don't sacrifice anything on the looks end of things for all that easy happiness. My brother's had one for years and my parents all do also. We really should just do it, I thought.

But then, for about the 5th year in a row, I thought not about having the tree but about getting the tree. I love picking out Christmas trees. We moved a lot when I was growing up (really, a lot) and we developed two traditions for our first night in a new place. No matter what time of year it was, we always had spaghetti and we always decided where our Christmas tree would go. The spaghetti because it was easy for my mom to make and the tree because it was our way of claiming the space as our own. So what tree went in that space was also important. I have great memories from my childhood of standing around a tree lot and arguing over whether we wanted the taller one or the fuller one and which had the best all around look for our house. Then, we'd load it up and get it home - and wait. It was excruciating. My dad had a rule that it needed to spend so much time in a bucket of water so it was happy and the limbs relaxed before we could bring it in and put it up. I'm pretty sure it was out there a week or maybe a month, although he would probably claim it was no more than a day. However long it was, it was torture. But finally, the tree would come in and go up and we'd decorate it, and that anticipation would have made it all the more special.

And so, for the 5th year in a row, I thought about what it would mean to have a fake tree, not just this year, but every year. I know it would look the same and would simplify a part of our lives (something I'm usually all about), but it wouldn't feel the same. I simply can't imagine never again embarking on the quest for the perfect tree with my boys as my parents did with us, so embark on it we will. For at least one more year, I will take process over product and acknowledge that for us, for right now, in this one thing, inefficiency is not a problem but an essential part of the journey toward making holiday memories.