Christmas Trees and the Reflection of Two-Hundred Multi-Coloured Lights

It snowed a little last night. It was the clingy snow that forms clusters on the ground and sticks to your car windshield. It's pretty. Since it is now officially December and thus Christmas season, I have my tree up. It's the first tree I've ever put up by myself. When I moved to L.A., I lived by myself for five years and because I had virtually no money, I made do with decorating my mantel with ornaments and one of those green tinsel garlands that is the same colour as a Christmas tree from the 99 cent store. I twirled lights around the tinsel for effect and it was pretty. As the years went by, I upgraded to a fake pine garland and added some nativities and candles. Since I flew back to the Midwest for Christmas every year, it didn't matter that there was no tree. My little gas fireplace always looked cozy and with the glow of the multi-colour lights that I had wrapped around the garland, it was very festive.

When I moved in with my roommate, she liked real trees and so we would go pick our tree every Christmas and then spend hours in Walmart picking out decorations. That was always fun. I love the smell of a fresh tree, it brings the outside indoors without the inconvenience of mud, ice and, well, the outdoors. I'm not a very outdoorsy person. I don't mind a good hike or a walk but then I'm done. I hate camping. I've really tried to like it. I even went camping with some experts who cooked gourmet food and had all sorts of nifty camping stuff. The company was awesome, the camping was miserable. I hate sleeping outside. I hate that my feet get so cold that nothing warms them. I hate that damp cold that creeps in overnight so when you wake up, you can't escape from it until you crawl outside and practically wrap yourself around the camp fire that the more experienced campers have already set. And though that warms me, I then smell like smoke for the rest of the trip. So, yeah, a real Christmas tree inside my apartment? That's as outdoorsy as I get.

This year, I don't have a real tree. I have my Black Friday Triumph Tree. It's pre-lit so I don't have to worry about wrapping the lights around the branches. I've never been good at that. I've watched other people spend hours and hours individually wrapping each branch with lights. It always looks awesome but during the time the lights are being put on the tree, the would-be decorators eventually lose all hope that they'll get to hang the baubles on the tree at all that day. I was worried my pre-lit tree would be skimpy on lights and I'd have to supplement but after plugging it in, it is beautifully lit with no bare spots.

I hung the ornaments I inherited when I moved. It was a little sad to hang them alone; I remembered picking them with my roommate and choosing the colours carefully. I also hung up my garland that I first bought when I lived alone. My apartment is twinkly and festive and it makes me happy to turn on the lights.

I tried not to be too reflective when I decorated. It has been a tough year, full of loss and change. Christmas is hard that way. While it's full of tidings of comfort and joy, it's also a reminder that life changes, sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. The change can be good; I'm still grateful and thrilled that I was able to move so much closer to my family. It's such a treat to drive home and be surrounded by the people that I love, even when we drive each other crazy.

But the change can also be bad. Christmas is a time when the emptiness in our life is a little louder and no matter how many twinkly lights or gift-exchanges you fill it with, it's always there. There's always a gap that can't quite be filled. Christmas is a time when ghosts whisper a little louder, wanting to be remembered and nostalgia grows into something tangible, something that makes your heart break just a little at the most unexpected moments.

Yet Christmas is also the end of the year, a time when all things end, only to begin again. It's a gentle reminder that everything comes full circle. For each year that begins, an ending must follow. It's the in-between part that is tricky. New Years is a time of renewal, of new hope, of resolutions for change. Christmas is a time to reflect and look back. It's a time to celebrate the promise of hope, provided you remember why we have Christmas in the first place. It's a time to spend with loved ones, to honour the spaces that are left unfilled but to not let those gaps overwhelm us.

There's a lot that I miss in my new life. I miss the trip to Target or Home Depot to pick out the tree. I miss laughing and being silly as we decorate the tree. I miss the bickering over whether we should be tasteful (as my roommate preferred) or colourfully tacky (my prefence). We usually compromised and ended up with a pretty cool-looking tree. I'll miss the mini-Christmases I had before I came home for Christmas with my family, the gift exchanges, the laughter, the food. Most of all I'll miss the friends and family I have in California who filled the gap when my own family was too far away and the distance couldn't be bridged with a phone call.

It's been a year full of change, good and bad. It's a year of growing up and realizing that life is too short to waste. Though the new year is still a month away, the inevitable reflection begins in the comfort of 200 multi-coloured lights, blazing away on my $25 pre-lit tree. Though my writing is no further than it was a year ago as far as publishing goes, it's taken leaps and bounds with the subjects I choose and the way in which I write them. The rejection I receive is hard but it's not everything. It depends on how I let it affect me. And so as I lay beneath my Christmas tree and stared up at the lights last night, I decided to enjoy the beauty of life rather than the harshness. The lights, the tree, the snow, the family and the friends, absent and present, all these things make Christmas my favourite time of year.

Happy Tuesday.