Christmas Age Calculation

tree xmas

 

I base my age on how many Christmas events I have been through. I can remember mom and dad holding us twins in their arms so we could see the lights on the tree. I remember the years my brothers, two older than my twin and I, were getting matchbox cars and us twins only received a plastic toy which made noises. I remember going out with our dad, trucking through the snow to find a spruce or fir. Those days were so hard.

My memory brings me to the time my mother made meat pies for Xmas and I got sick after eating it. I also remember the time my twin and I got Rock-em-sock-em Robots. Boy did we have fun with that. I remember my brother and I receiving baseball gloves from Wilsons Store, the tag still left on them. I recall the Christmas Mom told dad that she couldn’t truck out through the snow anymore, it was getting to be too much for her. Time is changing and I’m doing calculations of my own age.

I must be in my teen years, well my twin too. There is the year that the new tree comes in. There is no smell to the tree. The siblings and I, start touching the tree. The tree kind of looks real but has no smell. Interesting concept, fake Christmas. The gifts are unwrapped this year and my brothers and I received some matching pajamas.

My Dad this year tells mom he is going out to get a real tree this year. The boys all jump in the International Scout we have. My Dad drives up the road and pulls into “Dons Xmas Tree Farm”. The boys and I are not that excited about getting a tree from a farm. This is the first time I noticed that Dad is getting older. The tree hauling is just getting to be too much for him.

Another few years go by and a few meat pies and homemade candy. My oldest brother is now an adult. My age is calculating to be in my late teens. I have realized by this point that all I have to do is look back, dwell upon, checking every Christmas event and I can find my age. I since have dropped my regular birth date because it hasn’t been a good reminder. I wanted really happy moments and Xmas was a good reminder of time.

My mother and father set the tree up again. One sibling is in California and one is in Minnesota. It is only my twin brother and I this year. Mom tells us it is ok not to wear our matching pajama’s this Christmas. Time sure is flying and a lot of tree setup’s for my dad. Mom cannot help with the tree anymore with her being lame all the time.  No meat pies this year or homemade candy.

This year my folks tell us they are moving to Florida in the winter. I’m thinking what no Christmas with us? I was devastated by this announcement but I fully understand. Time is changing, people are aging. I know my age is calculating out to be and adult now. My brothers and I meet back again at the house, our parents are not present. My oldest brother mention’s to the rest of us about going out and cutting down a real tree. We all agreed with his thought. We made it happen and all of us siblings enjoyed the scent of a real tree.

I know my age is getting older, I have children of my own. They are calculating their own age. This program has now been set in motion for all my children’s children. Mom and Dad are not coming home anymore. They have set their own time zone and marked their own calendar’s of life. I have marked my own this year. I started making meat pies now for my own children, candy to be bought. I know the rock-em-sock-em Robots are long tucked away in some open landfill, between tires and old junk cars, at the bottom of the pile.

I am told this year that we have grandchildren to be happy for. I now have a reason to move on with this cycle of life. I will start this week to train the young ones of this new calculation of age. I look back at this great life of mine and know that many Christmases have been etched into my memory bank. I can be happy that I have been witness to a wonderful holiday. I’m very thankful to have family to carry on. I’m glad I don’t have to go out and cut down Christmas trees anymore, electing for a fake one. The smell of the real tree is gone. My son tells me he is going out to cut down a real tree for his own house this season. I know my age is calculating, clicking away, I’m marking the calendar.

D.H.Bilodeau 2015

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