My mind is slipping. It makes me afraid. I pride myself on having a very good memory. But this past week, I considered tucking the pride away with the Fall decorations.

The girls wanted to get a Christmas tree to put up, the day after Thanksgiving. Afterall, everyone does it. (Can we say peer pressure?) I was in the midst of a full-blown pity party originating from the wicked side effects of a particular medication. They asked if we could "pulease get a tree and decorate it the next day." Before my brain could process their request, Michael responded, "sure!"

I was shocked. Those words clearly, could not have come from my husband. He was the one who never wanted the tree up early. Once spruce trees begin to dry out, they drop needles like snow in a winter blizzard. Worse than the needle residue is sap dripping from the bark, right into the carpet. Another year, I overfilled the reservoir with water. The lovely metal stand rusted right onto the carpet. I haven't found anyone or anything that gets rust out of carpet. One year I tried to put the tree up while Michael wasn't home. It took 2 hours to saw off the bottom and then didn't fit in the stand. It tipped over 3 times before I finally sat their crying until he came home. It was always an ordeal to get our Christmas tree. Maybe Michael was just kidding about putting it up the next day.

"Really? We can?" The girls were pretty excited. "When can we go pick it up?"

"I can go downstairs now and get it right now if you'd like."

"What, you're going to chop one down for us outside?"

Now it was his turn to look puzzled. "No, I'm going to get the tree we purchased last year. Remember the tree we bought?

I was stunned. No, I was aghast. A fake tree? I never, in my wildest dreams ever, did I want, nor would I have purchased a tree that came in mulitple pieces and smelled of plastic. I honestly did not remember this.

As we talked about it, hints of a memory began to emerge. I remembered the classic procrastination of getting a tree. When we finally went to pick up our fresh Douglas Fir, the lots were empty. There wasn't even the more expensive kind we'd had to purchase because of our late purchasing and the cheaper ones were gone. In all our years, I don't recall seeing nothing left. We drove around town. We hit 3 or 4 empty lots before giving up. Sometime after this, in a dazed state, I was worn down and agreed to getting a faux tree. It was out of necessity. We needed somewhere to place those last minute presents I still needed to buy. But I don't remember buying it. What did the thing look like?

Another fuzzy memory...something about a pre-lit tree. If we were getting an artificial tree, I did not want clear bulbs. That, to me, would be another loss of tradition. We must have multi-color lights. I could not pull up the memory of assembling the tree, decorating it, or taking it down. Had it been that traumatic for me to settle for less than real? Yes, that must be it. And now, we were stuck with this green thing for years to come.

Last Sunday, Michael brought the tree up. The girls assembled it and decorated it all on their own. I admit, it was so much easier than past years. I have to say too, that in its own way, it did look lovely. That night, as I went to unplug the twinkling lights, I stopped to admire its beauty. And without thinking, I instinctively bent down to check the water level, so our tree would stay fresh.