Browsed by
Tag: christmastree

2017 Christmas Letter

2017 Christmas Letter

 Christmas 2017

I went to see Santa today.

It had been a long time since I had gone to see Santa.

For many years after Donny’s accident I would go visit Santa, have my photo taken, and frame the photo or photos with a letter to my wife that was meant to cheer her up.

It would always be the first gift of Christmas.

As the years went by and things got more hectic and wall space began to run low, I stopped.

Eventually after some downsizing and renovations those framed items were taken down from the walls and stored somewhere in the chance that someday one or all of my kids would remember and want one or two.

Not only did I have my picture taken with Santa, most of those photos were taken with the same Santa, who I got to know over the years and he even looked forward to seeing me come back each year.

I don’t remember if I have shared this story before and I apologize if I am repeating myself.   I have learned that repeating yourself is just a part of growing older, which I am.

But Christmas is about memories, those that we pull out of boxes each year or put in picture frames; and those that we work so hard to plan for so we can create new ones that we hope will be engraved in the memories of our kids and now our grand kids.

That is what visiting Santa did for me each year, he created a memory for me, for my wife, and after a few years for him too.

But Kim and I had already begun to create some memories for this holiday season.

It started by spending Thanksgiving with Ethan and Christian in Florida.  Oh yeah and Alexa and Namaan were there too.

Then upon returning home, my wife went on a tear and decided that in order to make better memories for the kids who were all going to be here for Christmas this year, we needed to create fun space by downsizing even more and renovating the basement.  That meant I had to take apart my office one piece at a time and put it in bins and boxes to be moved elsewhere while the new floor was installed and the painting done.

And just like opening boxes of Christmas memories each year, this task made me touch a lot of things I hadn’t picked up in a long time like:

My photo of Donny grinning and holding up his ticket at our Monmouth Park wedding reception;  my sterling silver guitar pick with “Pop Pop” engraved on it; the card and letter from my wife  for our tenth anniversary with our tickets to the Kentucky Derby.

Haskell hats, and Derby hats, and glasses, and more photos; guitars and vintage harmonicas; “The Little Chickens” Blizzard Blend wine bottled during a snowstorm when we were all stuck together in the house.  All of it brought me back to some place and time…and then it got put in a box.

And though the whole thing really stressed me out, at the time my wife said to me “when this is all done, you will say ‘Thank You Honey.’”

Next up,   was a trip with Cameron to see Santa on a Polar Express like train ride (the Northern Express) from Cumberland to Frostburg, Maryland and back that was an awesome day and a forever memory.

The next day I put up the really nice artificial Christmas tree with the lights already built in that I picked up really cheap at the yard sale.  And in typical Christiansen curse fashion only the middle section lights worked…well, so I save some money on the electric I guess.

And then today I get the idea that it might be nice to go visit my Santa friend again.

So I went, but sadly my Santa friend was not there anymore and hadn’t been there for a couple of years according to the girl I spoke with at the desk.  The last time I had stopped to check on him I was told he had taken that year off because his wife was very sick.  I am hoping he and Mrs. Claus are well and reclining on a beach on the west coast of Florida right now.

My new Santa was okay of course but since there were so many other kids waiting impatiently in line to see Santa (oh…and they had reservations!)  I didn’t have too much time in the chair so I didn’t get to tell him what I wanted for Christmas.

But If I could have I would have told him I wanted this Christmas to be more special than any other before.

That I wanted to spend quality time with my grandchildren;

That I wanted to enjoy the company of my kids and family and friends;

That I wanted my wife to have the happiest Christmas ever;

And that most of all I wanted some young kid to show me how to use the new Xbox One in the new basement.

Time goes on and age changes us all; Santa Clauses retire, and technology leaves me standing in front of a massive TV flailing my arms to no result.  And even as I write this, I am dribbling oatmeal on my sweater.

Though once again it has been a year of change for my family, God has been good.

 

And to my wife I must say I am not going to write you a letter this year and put it in a frame with my new Santa photo, have it be the first gift of Christmas, then hang it on the wall.

But I am going to say, “Thank you Honey.”

For all those Christmases and all those memories.

Let’s hope that time allows us to enjoy many more.

And to all of you out there I hope your Christmas season has been as good as mine.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from my family to yours.

Kim and Curt

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  James 1:17

This year’s Santa Pic
This year’s Santa Pic too.
With Santa on the “Polar Express” Train
Here are a few of my friend Santa. He was always a good sport.

The Ghost of a Christmas Past … or the Year the Tannenbaum Bombed

The Ghost of a Christmas Past … or the Year the Tannenbaum Bombed

Our Danish Blue Ice Christmas Tree
Our Danish Blue Ice Christmas Tree

Last week on the day after Thanksgiving, as is my family’s tradition, we put up our Christmas tree.

This year was a little different however because after many years of having an artificial tree, we went back to a live tree.  On the way home from having Thanksgiving dinner with the family in Western Pennsylvania, we stopped at the Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm in Berryville, Virginia and cut down an unusual Danish Blue Ice Christmas tree.

We made a second stop along the way home to buy a new tree stand because I had thrown out the old one vindictively years ago.

And once that awesome tree was up in the living room I couldn’t help but think about the last time we had a live tree.

And why we had changed to an artificial tree.

And why I had thrown out that tree stand in disgust one day many years ago.

Then I remembered I had written about the events of that last live Christmas tree at the time, and went back in my files to find it.

So here is an edited version of the events of the day that ended the live Christmas trees in my house until last week.

Twas the weeks before Christmas… and here we go…

 

(The following was written December 2007 and edited December 2016)

 

The following story is something that was forwarded to my wife in her email that she shared with me:

Saying Grace in a Restaurant

 Last week, I took my children to a restaurant.

 My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace.

 As we bowed our heads he said, “God is good, God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert.  And Liberty and justice for all!  Amen!”

 Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, “That’s what’s wrong with this country.  Kids today don’t even know how to pray.  Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!”

 Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, “Did I do it wrong?  Is God mad at me?”

 As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table.

He winked at my son and said, “I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer.”

 “Really?” my son asked.

 “Cross my heart,” the man replied.

 Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), “Too bad she never asks God for ice cream.  A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes.”

 Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal.  My son stared at his for a moment, and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.

 He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman.  With a big smile he told her, “Here, this is for you.  Ice Cream is good for the soul sometimes; and my soul is good already.”

 (Source unknown)

 

I have always been taught that when you pray, you should ask for whatever you want.  So what is wrong with asking for ice cream?

December 4th (2007) was an interesting day.   I had a meeting at 2:00 pm in Fairfax (Virginia) and since this put me closer to home, I decided to finish working out the day at my house.

This particular day was very windy.  As I arrived at my house I was greeted by my relatively new, $350.00, full glass storm door hanging by one hinge, bent, and swinging back and forth in the strong winds.  Angry over the loss of my new door, I removed it from the door frame, carried it around back, and leaned it on its side against the deck.

Now in the back yard, I see that the Christmas tree  I had put up in the garden next to the Koi Pond, with all its decorations and lights, was also laying on its side; with half the tree, the lights and star top, in the Koi pond. Cold and discouraged, I went inside to finish my work.

Around 4:30 pm I received a frantic call from my youngest daughter Savannah on my cell phone.  She was coming home from her second day of working in the Merrifield (Virginia) area and got on the Beltway heading south towards the Wilson Bridge and Maryland, instead of getting on the inner loop heading north as she should have.  While I was trying to talk her through getting turned around on the Beltway, my wife calls me on the house phone also frantic, because neither Savannah nor I am picking up her calls.  So I am now standing in the kitchen with the house phone to one ear with Kim, and my cell phone to the other ear with Savannah, when the cats begin to fight with each other.

The cats zoom by me into the living room and get up under the Christmas tree that we had just set up and decorated over Thanksgiving weekend.

There I stand, in the kitchen with a phone to each ear, having two conversations at once, while I watch in horror as the cats topple over the Christmas tree.  To make matters worse, this year I had found the “the bomb” Christmas tree stand… The one that cost a bunch of money; the one with the foot operated ratcheting jaws that allows you to stand holding the tree straight while you ratchet down the jaws around the tree trunk with your foot.

The tree stand that in addition to all those other cool things holds four gallons of water and like the Titanic, is “untopple-overable.”

Now I am the one who is frantic, so I told my wife I had to get off the phone while I righted the tree, but I still had to get Savannah turned around on the Beltway.

Now in the living room with the Christmas tree in one hand and the cell phone to my ear in the other, the doorbell rings.  Then it rings again.

It’s the UPS guy.

He is persistent because his delivery requires a signature.  After some initial hesitation, I lean the tree against wall, I tell Savannah to call me back in couple of minutes, and I answer the door.

The UPS guy is a nice guy, but he likes to talk.   As we stood in the doorway now without a storm door, I told him about the door, and the cats, and the Christmas tree. I was trying to get him to realize that it was bad timing and I was in a hurry.  Of course he wanted to share his cat stories too, and told me he thought he remembered a storm door on the house; then he laughed a little.  Me, not finding anything funny, and Savannah now calling back, I finally just told him I had to go.

With Savannah now heading in the right direction on the Beltway, I get a call on my cell phone from someone from work needing to discuss some important work stuff.  While on that call, still concerned about Savannah, the house phone rings again and thinking it might be her I answer it while still on the cell with my co-worker.  Now for the second time today, I am in the kitchen with a phone to each ear.  This time it is not Savannah however, it is Alexa (oldest daughter,  and I can tell by the sound of her voice that she has a problem, or maybe better said, thinks she has a problem).

“Alexa can I call you back,” I asked hurriedly.

“Well ooookaay” she said obviously not happy.

Feeling bad, I said, “Look Alexa; the Christmas tree fell down,  I have 4 gallons of water in the carpet, the storm door blew off,  and I am on the phone with somebody from work…Is there something really wrong?”

“Yes” she said. “I have a big problem!”

“Is it an emergency? Are you bleeding?  Can it wait a few minutes???” I pleaded.

“Noooo, it’s not an emergency” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Okay please let me call you back”

Having heard all that, my co-worker realizes it’s probably not the best time to be talking to me about work problems and she hangs up the phone too.

Now I have a moment with no one on the phone.  I begin to clean up the busted antique ornaments, the keepsakes from the kids’ first Christmas’s, the shattered Steelers ornaments and the other colored balls, when my wife comes home.

Seeing that I am all worked up and dramatic, she acts like it’s no big deal and says just what I didn’t need to hear:

“Honey, it’s just a Christmas tree, they are just some ornaments, and it’s just a door that I didn’t like anyway, so get over it!”

“I hate it when she says stuff like that…she wasn’t here…she doesn’t know…you don’t just get over it,”  I said to myself dejectedly.

Feeling defeated, I get out the wet vac, pull up the carpet, suck up the water, start blowing air under the carpet, vacuum the rest of the mess, and move the tree to the other end of the room.

Then, on top of all that, I make dinner, because Savannah, who is now finally home from her Beltway adventure… is hungry.

Sitting down at the table ready to eat, I ask my wife to say The Blessing because I am too beaten and broken and apparently way to dramatic to be thanking anyone for anything.

And her prayer went like this:

“Dear God,

Thank you for this food we are about to eat.

Thank you for getting us all home safely from work.

Thank you for caring for all those who we know who are sick.

Thank you for the wind that blew the door off the house because I didn’t like that door any way and now I can get a new one.

Thank you for the cats who knocked over the Christmas tree and spilled the water and ruined the carpet because now I can get the wooden floors I want.

Thank you for everything.

In your name we pray,

Amen”

 

“Amen” …I said…

The End

 

And that is how it happened now nine years ago today.

Like the little boy praying for ice cream in the opening story I am sure God wasn’t mad at Kim for her prayer (though He may have been a little mad at me for my behavior).

Though Kim never got her wooden floors in that room, she did get her new door.

And like my wife said nine years ago, “it’s just a Christmas tree, they are just some ornaments;” I guess that is not what Christmas is all about anyway.

Because like a little ice cream, Christmas is good for the soul too.

And  it doesn’t really matter whether it’s a live tree or an artificial tree at all.

And I suppose I still need to get over that…because I don’t really know if my soul is good already!

I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas!

I just cut my tree down at the Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm in Berryville, VA
Pulling my tree on a sled after cutting it down at the Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm in Berryville, VA