• 

• 

• 

• 

About a week after Eddie died, I ordered a fake Christmas tree. It was completely insignificant in the realm of everything going on, but something I had to do.

Every year we had high expectations of cutting down a tree, but life got in the way…every single year. There was always something that came up for work with him, whether it was plowing or the firehouse shifts. Every year instead of cutting down a tree, we ended up with an impromptu trip to Home Depot on our way home from some holiday event. I was usually without a coat, cold and clearly not dressed for tree picking. Then when we got home, Eddie would set it up and get the lights on, just right. He’d adjust things and keep turning it for the best angle that I approved of because he knew I am a perfectionist. Then, I would decorate it, with a little help from the boys. Except for the star at the end…that was “his part” of it and the biggest deal ever with the boys and helping him.

Not only was decorating it “my part” but I got to take it down and lug it outside too, usually because he was working and I wanted it out. I also got to clean up all the damn needles that flew all over the house. So much fun.

That was how it had been for the past 12 years. Every year, I put on a smile and went wherever he wanted, no matter what the plan changed to or what the weather was, because I loved him. He had in his head that he needed a real tree every year and even though I hated it, I did it for him. The boys could have cared less as long as presents showed up under it.

Today, I set up the perfect little fake tree that I ordered. It looked good. The boys decorated. All was going well. Then came all the memories with the ornaments. Each one significant to the life we built together for the past 12 years, with lost hopes of many more to come. Every time I looked at one, it felt like my heart was being stabbed. It hurt. Each ornament was a reminder of our life together, but now those pictures seemed as fake as the tree. They weren’t true anymore. That wasn’t my life anymore. He’s not here and that smiling family of four, will never be, again.

Putting them up and pretending life is okay seems fake…just like the tree. To the boys and I though, it’s our new reality… he’s gone and our family of four is now three.