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Pine Scented Memories by Jane Hale
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Rated "G" by the Author.
Family Christmas Story of memories.
Pine Scented Memories
The scent of baking bread vied with the delicious smells of ham, dressing, and all the Christmas fixings as aromas mixed together and filled the air with the anticipation of our holiday feast. Peanuts roasted by the open fire on the fireplace hearth.
The cedar tree looked small in the corner but it was decorated with Christmas memories of a happy family’s past.
I smiled, remembering my husband and I searching for our first Christmas tree. Some trees stood naked, shivering, their branches bare. Their time had come and gone as seasons changed. Summer's abundance of green leaves had turned to shades of gold, bronze, and red when Jack frost visited. The beauty of autumn had been brief.
“Look, over here!” Rob pointed to a tall cedar.
Leaves were scattered under foot. They crackled as we walked over to examine the tall cedar. Some leaves had never made it to earth but were wedged among the branches of the cedar. Dried brown clusters amidst green decorated the tree as nature intended. It was a grand tree! Rob and I leaned our heads back and gazed upward. A light snow had sprinkled the tree's branches white like Christmas cookies topped with powered sugar.
"It's perfect!" I grabbed his hand. We walked around and around the tree. It
had no imperfections. Once more we looked upward. The tree ended in a point outlined against
the sky.
Awestruck, I murmured, “Rob, can’t you just imagine the evening star gracing the top of the tree when dusk falls?
He grinned, as we continued our inspection of the tree.
“Oh listen,” I sang, “Do you hear what I hear?”
“Jeez! Jade, my brother’s are out here somewhere. You’re not going to start singing, are you?” He was peering through the woods with a look of panic on his features. He and his brothers teased each other unmercifully.
I’d never understood their ways. One minute they were fighting like a pack of wild dogs and the next defending each other to the death. Once they admitted you into the foal their allegiance was strong. But, it still didn’t keep you from being the butt of a joke.
I teased. “Would you be mad if I serenaded you and our Christmas tree?”
“No,” he said, but he was nodding his head up and down viciously.
I reached over and kissed him smack dab on his lips which were turned up into a devilish smile.
“Jade!!!” He jerked back like my lips were coals of fire. He loved to be kissed but not in public. Especially when one of his brothers might be spying.
I giggled. “Silly, listen.”
If you were still you could hear small chirps as baby birds waited for the return of their mother.
“We can’t cut down their home. Let’s look for another tree.” I grabbed his hand.
But he remained where he was gazing up at the magnificent tree. Then, he pointed to a spot far above us where the limbs of another tree overlapped our tree. In it’s branches far above our heads, we spied the nest. “I think we might shake them up a bit but we’ll manage to save the nest.” Even as we marveled at the beauty of the cedar we knew it was too large. But we were
young, in love, and it was our first Christmas.
“Step back, Jade.” Rob hoisted his ax and attacked the sturdy tree trunk. His ax bounced off the waxy surface without leaving a mark. But the force of the blow to the tree and fierceness of the rebound swing was enough to cause Rob to serenade the forest with a string of cuss words. His brothers came running to see what was the matter.
The next thirty minutes was spent exchanging the pros and cons of a Christmas tree of this size.
“You’ll never get it cut down, Wimpy!” Blaine taunted.
“If we help you cut it down, you’ll never get it back to the house,” Dean teased.
“If you get it back to the house, you’ll never get it in the trunk of your car.” Mitch cautioned, “Or get it into your house when you get it home.”
Early on, when I asked Rob why he and his brother’s fussed, and cussed, at each other. He’d informed me, “We’re not fussing or cussing, we’re discussing.”
So, I stood by watching while the fussing grew louder, and the cussing grew stronger, until the discussion came to a halt. Rob was as stubborn as his brothers. When they saw he wanted this tree they set about to find a way for him to have it.
Soon, Blaine had a chain saw revved up and it was biting into the stubborn trunk of our tree.
The other two brothers were debating how to direct the fall of the tree to keep the bird nest safe. Soon, others who had been searching for their trees joined our group and watched while the brothers accomplished what Rob and I could not do by ourselves. The great pine tree fell with slow motioned grace as the brothers pulled with the ropes they’d tied at strategic places to keep it away from the branch where the bird nest rested.
When the great tree lay on the ground it seemed far taller than when it was standing.
“Oh, dear, Rob!” I began.
He stopped my words with the look I’d learned meant, ‘Please, not now!’ There was no way he’d admit his peer’s had been right. “Okay, men, let’s get this baby trussed and ready to drag back to the house.”
Dean set about making it happen.
Rob winked at me, and all was right in our world.
As luck would have it, others who’d already loaded their smaller trees came along and helped too. We all grabbed on and drug the tree to a wagon, hoisted it on, and Rob and I proudly claimed it as our first Christmas tree.
When we got back to the family farm, everyone had unloaded their trees. Ours was the
largest and the most perfect but it was too large to transport to our home. Rob’s mom reminded us, even if we got it home, we would never have room for it in our small house.
Mitch came to our rescue. He showed Rob how to cut the top out of the tree.
Glumly, I watched Mitch butcher our beautiful tree. When he was finished he stood a
perfectly shaped tree before us. We couldn't believe our eyes. Mitch helped load the little tree in the trunk of our car and tied the lid down to hold it.
Rob’s dad shook his head sadly. "What a waste."
We looked at the remainder of what had been a beautiful tree. Now, it was nothing but bottom branches with no future except to become a home for fish in the creek.
But once more, Mitch saved the day. "Who needs some boughs of holly to deck their
halls." He began sawing limbs for others to take home for greenery.
Rob’s mom sighed. "It's a shame to waste God's creations. Some trees are big, some
are small, some are made to live in the woods, others to become Christmas trees."
Now, years later, I stood admiring my small, but well shaped Christmas tree in the corner. I knew the other side was bare, spindly limbs but they were in the corner and didn’t need as many decorations because the back of the tree would never be seen.
Lessons learned through love and years of raising a family served me well as a widow. As I hovered over the stove burners stirring various pots and pans, I smiled, remembering how Rob had loved this time of the year. Dwelling on thoughts of the past, I found myself listening for the slamming of the back door.
"Silly woman," I reminded myself. "Rob passed away years ago. Our children are grown. Their families won't be here for hours. There's nobody to open your door and share the good Christmas smells of your kitchen No one for you to fuss with as they lift a lid and peep in a pan or swipe a finger through the icing on your cakes."
I looked around the kitchen checking its contents. Three cakes stood waiting for icing; an angel food, devil's food, and a German chocolate. Pecan, pumpkin, and apple pies, lined the shelves of the pie safe.
The refrigerator was filled with salads. Every burner on the store held vegetables in various stages of cooking.
Glasses stood near pitchers waiting for tea, water, and assorted drinks. It was too early to put out the ice.
I walked into the dining room to be sure enough plates were set. Mentally, I counted off my company,.
Ring... my cell phone interrupted my counting. I lifted the receiver and recognized the voice of my grandaon.
"Hi Grandma, what's cooking?” Nick asked.
Knowing his favorite dishes, I mentioned a few.
“I can hardly wait. Are you going to have plenty?"
I smiled at the phone. What a question. Anyone who knew me knew I always cooked to excess, “Do you have to ask, Nick?"
"No, Grandma. But I just wanted to make sure it was okay if we brought some friends. They don't have family and we thought you'd have enough to feed them, too.”
I sighed remembering how Rob and our boys would bring home extra people at mealtime. I’d always welcomed company. "Of course, you bring your company.”
“They've got a baby, too. I know how you like babies. You're always after us to have one."
“Okay honey, you can watch after the baby."
"Gosh. I don't know anything about babies, Grandma."
"That's my point, Nick. It's time you learned If your Grandpa was here he’d tell you all to have babies were you’re young and can enjoy them.”
I heard the chuckle on the other end of the phone.
I added a smile to my voice as I continued, “I'll see all of you in a little while. Merry Christmas.”
Once more I surveyed the table checking where I could seat two more and a baby, "Okay table, you'll have to stretch some more this year."
My thoughts drifted back to the year I had finally persuaded Rob to buy this table.
He argued, “It’s too big, honey. We’ll never have enough family to fill this one.”
But the table had proved too small even with the extra leaves inserted. I wish he could have hung around long enough so I could have proved to him that this big table wouldn’t even hold all the adults.
In the large kitchen stood the children's table, "How many more children will you be able to hold, old table? Do you think you're up to it? Better yet, do you think I'm up to it?"
I crossed to the table and straightened the Christmas napkins. "Maybe I won't have to worry about it much longer, maybe I'll be gone."
I remember when my mom used to say that very thing. I’d scold her and now here I was having my own pity party. Rob and I used to tease each other about who’d go first.
I had told him, “Without you there would be no reason to go on living.”
Rob had shook his head as he hugged me close. “Jade, something tells me I’ll be the first to go. But whichever one goes first there’s always a reason for the other one to go on. Our children are the best reason I know.”
I had blinked back tears. “Let’s don’t think about it.”
Rob had placed a finger beneath my chin and raised my face to look into my eyes the way he did when he was dead serious, “We don’t have a guarantee who’ll leave the other but let’s make a promise to linger somewhere along the way. That way it’ll give the other one time to catch up before continuing for the long haul.”
I blinked to clear my vision remembering my answer. “Lingering near sounds good to me, Rob. You can count on me to linger. And I’ll feel you close if you hang around.”
Remembering his words added Christmas spirit to my steps. “Alright, Rob, I know you’re around here somewhere especially on your favorite family holiday.
Humming, I’ll be Home for Christmas, I tidied our already clean house, brushed my hair the way Rob like it, and smoothed on my apron making the strings accessible for him to untie the way he used to tease me. I reassured myself every thing was ready.
Returning to the family room, I switched on the big screen tv and sank into Rob’s overstuffed chair. I glanced at the clock assuring myself I still had time to rest. Then, I closed my eyes to rest just for a little bit
I was standing at the head of the Christmas table near the chair where Rob always sat. There were six chairs at a table that only required four.
I heard the slam of the back door. Voices filled the kitchen. I sensed the smile in Rob’s voice as he told our kids to wash up, “It smells like supper’s almost ready." He peeked around the door, "Is it almost ready, Jade? Me and the boys are starving,"
My heart reached across the space to embrace an image which often faded, sometimes disappeared, but always returned. Rob’s skin, transparent with age, showed signs of easy bruising like his mothers had at the last. Gray-white hair, what was left of it, was mussed from the cap he'd discarded. But, the eyes, they were the same. Those teasing brown eyes twinkled from behind gold rimmed glasses.
I felt a smile tug at my mouth as my gaze lingered on his lips smeared with a smudge of chocolate icing. Nature had covered him with years but nothing could never touch the core of youth within. That man did love to eat almost as much as he like to tease and laugh.
Funny how he could brighten your day with a new joke or a funny story. Now, concern
filled his voice. “You look tired, honey. But, I knew you'd have the feast ready. That chocolate icing looks good enough to eat."
“It appears to me you’ve already had a sample, Rob!” My gaze followed his beloved image to the kitchen. I could hear him lifting lids to check the contents of each pot.
"It's almost ready, Rob. Help yourself.”
And, of course, he always did.
“Merry Christmas, honey.” He called.
The door bell buzzed waking me from my dream but leaving the image of Rob secure within the house like an early visitor. I hurriedly opened the door to our guests and a blast of cold December air. Here were our children, not the little ones of yesteryear but the grown ones with children of their own and grandchildren for me to enjoy and spoil.
I kissed, hugged, and showed them where to put their discarded outer garments. The house was filled with cell phones, cameras, ipods, Nooks, and Kindles. Games were being accessed on my computer and tv. They’d brought Christmas presents Santa left under their trees last night and they’d opened this morning.
Everyone was piling gifts under the tree in the corner. And there was Nick and Leigh and their friends and . . .Oh! A Baby!”
I rushed to welcome the new arrivals and offer to hold the baby. It had been awhile since our family had brought forth a new born babe. Holding this one, memories flooded back and helped make the holiday even more perfect.
Kids ran through the house singing Christmas songs. Adult voices were raised above the clamor trying to catch up on their time away from each other. Our house was restored to home. I truly felt the joy of the season.
Like echoes of yesterday, I heard the lifting of pot lids, and the uhhing, ohhing, over their favorite foods. The girls, now women, adding their favorite foods to the feast. Kids grabbed a cookie only to get their hands swatted with a warning, “Not till after you’ve eaten your dinner.”
I’d deposited the baby with Nick, who was juggling it with one arm while he helped replace an ornament that had fallen from the tree.” He looked up to see me smiling at him. “I know, Grandma, it feels pretty good to hold a little one, but, I can still do this.” He grinned and placed the baby back in it’s mom’s arms.
He winked and pulled a small bundle of switches from beneath his sweater. He began stuffing his nieces and nephews stockings like Rob had once done and his dad before him.
Behind him came Chase with some lumps of coal to add to the stockings for fun.
I knew it wouldn’t be long till one of the kids would check on their stocking and chaos would reign with whoops and hollers of “Who put these in my stocking? I’ve been good, so good this year.” Hoots and shouts would drown them out as everyone laughed at an age old joke that continued through the Christmas years.
As I prepared to pour the drinks, one of my sons slipped up behind me and kissed my cheek. "Boy, Mom, Dad would love to be here, wouldn’t he?"
I returned his kiss. I gazed into the familiar eyes so much like Rob's, "He is, darling. He's here."
"I know, Mom. Everything is perfect, as usual, except for the chocolate cake. One of the kids has already swiped the icing. You remember how Dad used to do that? He’d blame it on me."
Our son's laughter filled the room reviving pine scented memories of family Christmas holidays.
