A Truck, the Tree, and a TV

A Truck:

Almost two weeks ago, my brother bought a new truck after planning and talking about doing so for the last several years. It’s a large Ford F150, with an extended cab and 5 ½ foot bed. With two wheel and four wheel drive, he feels his truck can get through anything, and indeed it seems it can. With his truck he is more than willing to play the hero, transporting us through the ice and snow that our little cars are helpless against. It was his truck that enabled our family to have Christmas this year.

I drove to Lincoln Monday, thankful to be able to arrive ahead of a massive storm system that was preparing to move through the Midwest. It moved slowly, arriving in Lincoln later than scheduled but living up to its potential, dropping rain, ice and snow all across the state. Christmas Eve services went ahead as scheduled in Lincoln, although they were cancelled in many communities west of us. The weather was deteriorating as the time for us to leave for church approached, and Dad didn’t want to risk it. My mom, dad, sister and I had our own little service at home, while my brother and sister-in-law went to church.

They arrived in the midst of swirling fluffy snow a bit later in the evening for our traditional meal of clam chowder, cheese and crackers, and snowman roll. When it was time for my sister to leave at 10pm for her overnight shift, my brother was more than happy to give her a ride there and to take me for a ride in the new truck. The roads were bad but not horrible, and he was quite pleased to demonstrate just how effective four wheel drive is compared to two wheel drive when driving through snow-filled streets. He laughed at me when I still grabbed the handle on the door, certain that the back end of the truck would still swing out and smack one of the cars parked quietly on the road!

Christmas morning, Peter and Liz picked my sister up at work and came over for gifts and dinner. The roads had become quite horrible overnight. Without the truck, Liz said, they wouldn’t have been able to make it across town. Peter had bought his truck just in time.


The Tree:

Growing up, we had always had a live Christmas tree. Getting poked by pine needles and having sap residue left on your fingers as you decorated was just part of the festivities. When I went to college, my parents started using an artificial tree. I missed the fresh pine smell the most, but I had to admit that not having hundreds of pine needles to clean up once we took the tree down was a nice change. We wouldn’t have to worry about the tree falling over and soaking our gifts either as had happened on past Christmases

This year, in Victorian fashion, we didn’t decorate our 5 foot, artificial tree until Tuesday night. Dad had actually set it up about two weeks ago with Mom adding lights a week later. It was finally time for the ornaments to be hung! We hung beaded angels, stars, umbrella, gazebos, and icicles. The finished effect was quite nice. But not two hours later, as Mom and I sat at the dining room table, we heard a rustle, a whoosh, and a plop as the tree landed on its side. We picked it up, Mom weighted the base, we redecorated the side that had smashed against the carpet, and we rearranged the gifts under the tree, thankful that none had gotten wet. All seemed to be well.

Christmas Eve morning I was awakened to Mom’s hurried whisper, “Allison, the tree fell down again! Can you come help me?! I was just sitting at the table and there it went.” I crawled out of bed to embark on our mission to rescue the tree, but it was not to be. We tried taping the base with duck tape, but when I’d let go of the trunk, it just listed to the side, pulling the duck tape up with it. We tried tying it up, but there wasn’t an effective place to tie it to. Finally, we just decided to give up on the tall tree and nab my sister’s small two foot tree so we’d at least have something to put our gifts under!

“The fake tree fell over?!” my brother said later. “How is that possible?!” How indeed.

A TV:

Six weeks ago my brother called me to see if I would be interested in going in on a flat screen TV for our dad for Christmas. He thought it would be an awesome gift for him; he would never suspect it in a million years, and he would absolutely love it. I agreed. It would be the perfect gift.

We set our plan in motion. The day after Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law braved the 5am Target crowds to secure a spectacular TV at a great price. The day before Christmas Eve, my brother delivered the 32” Sony TV to our house and hid it in my mom’s closet.

On Christmas morning, Mom kept Dad busy in the kitchen so Liz and Peter could hide the clues and Peter could set up the TV in Dad’s study. The surprise was almost spoiled when Dad decided he needed to go upstairs to get a hat to wear during gift opening. His head was cold. Rachel, Liz and I looked at each other trying to figure out how to stop him without giving anything away. Fortunately Peter came down the stairs as Dad was just getting ready to head up, blocking the way. He forbade him from going upstairs and found Dad’s stocking cap for him to wear.

Gift giving proceeded as usual. Finally, there was just one gift under the tree – Dad’s first clue. He unwrapped one clue and then another, making his way upstairs, the rest of us following along behind. When Dad opened the last clue, the instruction manual for the TV, Dad opened it and said, “Are you serious, you have to be kidding.” He just stood by the study door, disbelieving. “Open the door and see!” Mom said. He opened the door a smidge, hardly believing his eyes. “Wow,” was all he could say. “Wow. Wow.” Then a round of hugs. We all admired the TV before traipsing back down the stairs to get our turkey dinner on the table.

We played Wii that afternoon on the big screen and later the guys watched basketball. Dad watched Lord of the Rings last night. Everything is so much sharper now and that much better. He is looking forward to watching his PBS specials in high definition. He most certainly is set for years to come, and how special for us to be the bearers of such a gift!