Ode to an Old Tree
ur old, artificial Christmas tree was in rough shape by the time we retired it. At least a decade had passed since my wife and I bought the tree, a medium-size fake fir with built-in lights, at a Target in Brooklyn and schlepped it on the subway to our tiny apartment. Over the years, we hauled that tree from apartment to apartment, jammed it onto a moving truck to Los Angeles and later crammed the weathered box onto another moving truck, this time to Chicago and our current home. By the end, layers of duct tape held the box together, the wear and tear of a decade of delivering holiday cheer.
Our little tree looked run down, but it was the only tree our family ever knew. It stands proud and glowing in the background of photos of me and my pregnant wife during our last Christmas in Brooklyn without children: Our oldest was born a month later during a January blizzard. The tree shows up again in the next year’s photos,
Othis time surrounded by holiday gifts for a boy about to turn 1. Then it appears in photos of our son and his 1-monthold brother, this time with California palm trees just outside the patio door. And in more recent photos, our tree lights up windows overlooking glistening Chicago snow.
This year, after much debate, we decided to retire our dear old tree, with its bent branches and the lights that had burned out years ago. Rather than feel melancholy, we used the moment to launch a new family tradition: our first real Christmas tree.
So here’s a toast to all your family’s traditions—the old and the new. I hope you enjoy this issue, which we have filled with stories of seasonal joy and holiday cheer. Happy holidays! Jason Buhrmester, chief content officer