I shared last week how, after years of procrastinating, Husband and I finally attacked, emptied, donated the contents of a storage shed we’d been renting for more than five years.
The task was every bit as unfun and unpleasant as I had imagined.
And, and, it set off a bomb inside of me.
“What else can go?” I found myself asking when we got home.
Old linens?
Tossed.
My own closet?
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Toss. Toss. Toss.
I now own exactly one pair of jeans.
The dog and cat took cover, spooked by my frenzied state. The teenagers were unseen — but don’t give them too much credit. They’ve been behind their closed bedroom doors since they each turned 14.
My eyes scanned the house. And like a missile finding its target, I spied it.
The Christmas tree. Not just any Christmas tree.
Husband’s tree left over from his single days.
A tree that has seen much younger days.
Branches that won’t completely unfold. Sections of lights remain dark.
“I’ll find it a good home,” I promised as I kinda, sorta convinced Husband this tree must be kicked to the curb.
Literally.
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I posted on NextDoor.com: “It’s the artificial tree that defies description. Perhaps, not shockingly, purchased during my husband’s single days. Flickering of fake snow. Fake berries. Light ‘needles’ project colors not seen in nature. A true conversation piece. You’ll hear, ‘So many, uh, colors.’ ‘I didn’t know they sold trees like that.” I’m trusting they no longer do. In all fairness, it has served our family well. Especially during busy holiday seasons when we’ve been so slammed. Just plug and ‘Poof!’ Christmas! Full disclosure — has a well-used look. This seven-footer is waiting for you. Here’s trusting the old guy is on his way to a good home. The tree, that is. Not my husband. I’m keeping him.”
I clicked, “Post,” so very pleased with my free tree ad, I read it again.
Which is where I got stuck. On the last three words.
“I’m keeping him.”
As the first days of January froze by, not a single taker came by.
Regret began to creep in. I started to consider, “Had I gone too far?”
Is there a line you shouldn’t cross when it comes to giving things away, Dear Reader?
Is it possible the soul of the one you love is made up of some ugly, initially hard to appreciate parts?
I decided, yes.
I’m just back from hauling that tree back inside.
Not that I had to worry about trash pick-up guys getting it. They passed on it, as well.
A piece of Husband’s past is now in the basement. Ready to be called back into service next December.
No doubt, Husband and I will sleep better tonight.
Now, if I can only find a pillow case or two.
Someone might’ve tossed those in the donation bag.
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