Upon a Midnight Clear
Once we'd loaded up on lights and decorations, it was back to the house to put up the outdoor lights:) Isn't it funny how your tastes can do a complete turn around as you "grow up"? When I was younger I scoffed at the idea of big bulbs--even on outdoor lights. It was little imported Italian lights or nothing, and they must be multicolored, not white. Today is proof that I am no longer that little kid who pouts at the sight of bulky white lights strung outside her house:) I proudly display a 35 foot string of glittering white, bulky "diamond cut" lights:under the front eaves on my porch.
A wreath from the local market is soon to follow, I hope, hung on the front door to greet passsersby with a little traditional Christmas look.
As for the indoor tree, it too is finally set up, in all its artificial glory:) It has "donned its gay apparel", in the form of a white tree skirt with red glittery poinsettias emblazoned across it (pictures will come), and every single ornament from the box that somehow escaped the notice of prying eyes. There are also two glittering new additions in Michael's memory--a gilded angel carrying a harp (I think he'd approve, since the harp is an Irish national symbol), and a plastic pomegranate, which was one of his favorite fruits, and is now (after he introduced me to its tangy deliciousness) one of mine.
I am most definitely alone except for my dogs--but this year's Christmas tree doesn't feel like it's just mine. It feels like it's mine and Michael's, almost as much as it did last year. I felt him helping me pop the shiny bulb ornaments carefully out of their box, heard him telling me the story behind each miscellaneous ornament I found that was probably left over from the Christmas party he and a friend organized at the apartment complex, and asked his advice on where to place the replica model airplanes. His mother's third husband was a huge fan of airplanes, and I can only assume these little ornaments were his addition to Michael's apartment tree, and were left behind on purpose, because they represent Val's soon-to-be ex husband. But as I wanted to point out to her long ago, her history is now inescapably our history. I'm proud of the airplanes.
When "Good King Wensceslas" came on the speakers at the store today, I heard Michael telling me the song's ancient story as clearly as if he'd been there. I remember the moment he first did. He loved the song because it is purely a "pagan" song, based on old lore and ritual, just as I have always loved "O Come Emmanuel" for the same reason. There was something deep and meaningful buried in this holiday that touched us both. I'm so honored that I feel it even now, with his voice only a whisper, however clear.
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