Christmas Tree

In my family, it was always tradition to put the Christmas tree up the weekend after Thanksgiving and take it down on New Year's Day.

I don't know who decided that timeline, but it's what my mom did, so naturally it's what I tried to do.

When the kids were little, decorating the tree was an event.

My mom would come over to help.

We'd bake cookies.

Tell our favorite Christmas stories.

Listen to Christmas music.

It wasn't really about the tree.

It was about us.

Over the years I've owned just about every kind of Christmas tree imaginable.

Real trees.

Cheap trees that needed a little help reaching their full potential.

Trees that somehow appeared in my house and I still don't know where they came from.

But none of them ever compared to my mom's big tree.

It was tall.

Fat.

Perfectly full.

It looked so real you almost forgot it was fake.

I'm sure she paid more for that tree than I paid for every Christmas tree I've ever owned combined.

Every year I'd stand there decorating my own tree and tell myself,

"After Christmas, when they're on clearance, I'm buying a big tree just like Mama's."

Every year...

I never did.

A couple of years ago my mom downsized.

She didn't have room for the big tree anymore and got tired of rearranging her entire living room just to make it fit.

I asked for that tree.

Repeatedly.

Every single time the answer was...

"I plan on using it again."

I even asked to borrow it.

"Nope."

"I never get back anything I let you borrow."

Apparently borrowing a couple of mixing bowls years earlier had permanently ruined my reputation.

Last year, every light on my pre-lit tree stopped working.

After fighting with it for way longer than I should have, I was ready to drag the whole thing to the fire pit.

Out of frustration I announced,

"We're just not having a Christmas tree this year."

Mama looked at me and said,

"Come get my big tree... but don't let anything happen to it. I want it back."

Austin and I climbed into her attic and wrestled that giant tree down.

Finally...

The big tree was in my living room.

It was perfect.

The following Thanksgiving we spent the weekend camping in Uwharrie.

I made one thing very clear.

"I want to come home early Sunday so I can at least get the Christmas tree put together."

I didn't care if I decorated it later.

I just wanted my mom's big tree standing in the living room.

We got home.

Unloaded the camper.

Put everything away.

I marched straight to the attic.

Only...

The Christmas tree wasn't there.

Every decoration was exactly where it should have been.

But the tree...

Was gone.

I searched the attic.

Under the house.

Every closet.

Every corner.

Then I remembered.

Because the tree was so heavy, I'd asked Austin and Wyatt to carry it out to Lee's building after Christmas so nothing would happen to it.

Perfect.

I knew exactly where it was.

Except...

It wasn't.

I searched the loft.

Behind shelves.

Under tarps.

Moved boxes.

Nothing.

Completely frustrated, I walked into Austin's room.

He was lying in bed.

"Do you remember where you put Mama's Christmas tree?"

He thought for just a second.

"Oh yeah..."

My heart relaxed.

"...Wyatt and I were in a hurry to go fishing, so I just threw it in the back of my old Tahoe."

He said it like it was absolutely no big deal.

Like I could simply walk outside and get it.

Except...

I couldn't.

"You mean..." I asked.

"The Tahoe you hauled to the scrapyard?"

I watched the realization slowly spread across his face.

A few months earlier, he and Lee had loaded that Tahoe onto a trailer and hauled it to the scrap yard.

With my mother's giant Christmas tree...

Still in the back.

I was furious.

My mom wasn't going to be mad at Austin.

She was going to be mad at me.

"I hope you enjoyed that extra $2.50 you got for scrapping her Christmas tree!" I yelled.

     It was Wednesday when I finally told my mom about her Christmas tree.

She was mad at me, of course.

She said she was never going to let me borrow anything ever again.

Thursday night Austin called me, and we talked for a while.

Friday I traded my Jeep for a new car.

I called Austin and asked him if he would go back home, get his dad, and bring him to the dealership.

He did.

Saturday morning I decided I was just going to go buy another Christmas tree.

As I was getting ready to leave, Austin walked outside to see my new car.

We walked around it together.

I remember joking about how big the trunk was.

"Well... I can fit a big Christmas tree box in there."

He laughed.

He told me he was going to Bass Pro with a friend and would probably hang out at his house afterward.

He said he liked my new car.

I told him,

"Keep in touch with me, buddy."

"I will."

Then we both left.

I couldn't afford a tree as big as my mom's.

But I found one that was nicer than any tree I'd ever owned.

I couldn't wait to get it home.

Lee wanted to go do something that evening, but I wasn't interested.

That was unusual for us.

Most Saturday nights we were riding in Uwharrie, shooting pool, or out with friends.

But that night...

All I wanted to do was put up my Christmas tree.

I got it assembled.

Pulled all the decorations down from the attic.

By then I was exhausted.

I decided I'd decorate it the next day.

The next morning I woke up with a heaviness in my chest that I couldn't explain.

Before I even got out of bed, one thought crossed my mind.

Check on the kids.

Sarah was on her way snowboarding.

Wyatt was still asleep.

Austin's location...

Highway 321 South in Hickory.

2:45 a.m.

Dead phone battery.

I immediately woke Lee up.

"Something's wrong."

"I can feel it."

He told me I was overreacting.

Like always.

Austin was probably with that girl.

His phone probably died.

I tried to believe him.

Then I saw it.

One missed call.

Austin.

12:24 a.m.

No voicemail.

No message.

Just one missed call.

I never sleep through phone calls.

Never.

My phone is always beside my bed.

I tried convincing myself Lee was right.

I couldn't.

I kept checking Austin's location.

It never moved.

Trying to distract myself, I started decorating the Christmas tree.

I hung ornaments.

Stepped back.

Nothing looked right.

So I took every single one of them back off.

I checked my phone again.

Still the same.

I asked Lee to start calling Austin's friends.

"If we don't hear something in an hour..."

"...I'm going to find him."

I walked outside to smoke a cigarette.

That's when a plain white car pulled into our driveway.

Before I saw a badge...

Before they got out of the car...

Before anyone said a single word...

I knew.

I opened the front door and quietly told Lee,

"You need to come outside."

"They're here about Austin."

That Christmas tree stood bare in my living room for days.

Eventually Sarah and Wyatt decorated it.

Not because any of us wanted to celebrate Christmas...

But because somehow it felt wrong to leave it unfinished.

It stayed there until February.

I couldn't bring myself to take it down.

Because that tree became the line between two lives.

The life where my biggest problem was explaining to my mom how we accidentally scrapped her Christmas tree...

And the life where I would have given everything I owned...

Just to hear Austin tell me one more time...

"I will."

 That Christmas tree stood bare in my living room for days.

Eventually Sarah and Wyatt decorated it.

Not because any of us wanted to celebrate Christmas...

But because somehow it felt wrong to leave it unfinished.

There were no presents wrapped beneath that tree.

No cookies baked.

No Christmas movies playing in the background.

No excitement.

No laughter.

Just silence.

On Christmas morning, I handed Sarah and Wyatt their gifts still sitting in the store bags they came in.

I didn't have the strength to wrap them.

Then I looked over at the couch.

At the empty spot.

His spot.

The place Austin had claimed years before as his place every Christmas morning.

The place where he'd sit half awake, opening presents, joking with all of us, making the mess I always pretended to complain about.

That morning...

It stayed empty.

The tree remained standing until February.

I couldn't bring myself to take it down.

Because it was never really about the tree.

It became the line between two lives.

The life where my biggest problem was figuring out how to explain to my mom that we'd accidentally scrapped her Christmas tree...

And the life where I would have given everything I owned just to hear Austin say one more time...

"I will."