Doing the family Christmas tree thing

Last night our family got together for another one of our traditions: decorating the Christmas tree. I prepare a spread of party food, snacks, and egg nog, (known around here as "Schnoglagers"), while Steph goes into the garage and drags in the multitudes of boxes containing all of the Christmas decorations we have accumulated over the years, and Joel and Micah drag in the huge box containing the seven-foot artificial tree, (that you have to get right up on to tell that it isn't real). After seven years, Joel has really boiled this putting-up-the-tree-and-putting-on-the-lights thing down to a science, so we all just sit back and watch the master while he works. As he does that, I open all the boxes containing the decorations and start taking each ornament out of its box/wrapping, and placing hooks on them. After Joel finishes putting the tree together and putting on the lights, this is the point where everyone is supposed to dive in and start putting the ornaments on the tree. However, it seems that we've all become a household of supervisors rather than doers, (actually I think the more correct term would be "lazy-asses"), and we fight amongst each other over who is actually going to get up off their butts and do it.

While all of this is going on, we're listening to our favorite Christmas music on the CD player--"Not Bing & Friends", "A Rat Pack Christmas", Steph's collection of the Beatles annual Christmas greetings, (featuring the Beatles at their very weirdest), Michael Kelly singing "Joy to the World", and of course, The Vienna Boy's Choir singing traditional Austrian Carols in Viennese German and The Twelve Days of Christmas in really bad English.

Last night was, as usual, fun, heart-warming, and enjoyable, BUT, we were missing someone very important and it just wasn't the same without her. Several times we mentioned her and how much she loved doing this every year, and that if she were here, she would be moving all the ornaments around until they were just perfect. We miss her laughter, and her warmth. It just isn't complete without her. And despite the fact that she will be spending Christmas with her host family in France this year, we have still placed her stocking in the family row on the fireplace mantle, along with everyone else's.

We miss you, Lauren, and we love you.