Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me by Gilhool J.T

Author:Gilhool, J.T. [Gilhool, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: JG_Ink
Published: 2013-12-29T05:00:00+00:00

To ease our pain, at 3:30 p.m. Shanghai time on the 10th day of the 11th month, we did the unthinkable . . . we put up our Christmas tree. I am using the term loosely . . . the “Christmas tree” was purchased at IKEA. Henry is taller than this tree. We only had enough blinking lights for half of it and the lights play some nutty Chinese song. The star on top leans to the left and makes the tree look like it could topple over. It is not exactly a Charlie Brown Tree. It’s more like a Charlie Brown Tree that had too much eggnog or watched too much Rachel Maddow on MSNBC. Yes, my tree leans to the left . . . just like me. I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!!

I love it because our children dance around that tree like it was some enormous Blue Spruce.

Back in the States, my favorite family tradition is the Saturday after Thanksgiving. On Friday, we’d have two trees delivered to the house. They bring the smell of evergreen and pine and Christmas into the house. They usually arrive late in the evening from our former nanny’s Christmas tree farm. Jessica, who now has two of her own, visits with the kids while we drag in the trees.

That Saturday afternoon I untangle the lights to go on the “main” tree. This is the family tree. I make dinner and cookies and we have hot chocolate and start the process of dressing the tree. It takes hours.

From the time they were in the womb, the children’s grandparents have been purchasing unique and personal Christmas ornaments for them. The kids also collect them as we or they travel. Each ornament is marked with the year and their initials. We open these one by one by one.

The kids squeal in delight when some of their favorites appear — Batman, the taxi from New York, the music box. Each ornament is a story, a memory that comes to life as the owner recounts the story while placing the ornament on the tree. We even have ornaments that Jack and I made as children (because our Mothers were, and still are, Mothers of the Year!).

It is hours of pure joy for me. There is nothing I love more — it is Christmas. The Saturday after Thanksgiving is one of my favorite, and possibly my single most favorite, day of the year. The people I love most in the world sharing their lives with each other.

It is bliss. And, it will not last much longer. Jane is 15. We have not done it in 2 years . . . remember, I failed to pack the ornaments. But, I digress . . .

As the ornaments are unpacked, we are all waiting for the “first” one. The “ornament that started it all” as Henry would say. It’s the ring box disguised as a Christmas ornament that held my engagement ring all those years ago in Chicago.

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