Family Christmas

Belize Christmas trees are brought into town only a day or so before Christmas. They are so sparse that we always had to buy two and put them up back-to-back to get anything approaching a full tree. They had to be guyed extensively, not too difficult a task in rented houses with wooden or wallboard walls. Within a few days the tree assumed a shape Carli and I referred to as “The Christmas Bush.”

After Bucher died, I realized that 1) there was no way I could manage a real tree by myself, and 2) I could not survive without a tree. I always had loathed the idea of an artificial tree, but in my new circumstances the idea of a tree that would go up easily and hold its shape began to make sense.

My first Christmas alone, on a last-minute impulse, I bought the last artificial Christmas tree available in Belize City. It was a pretty little tree, said to be six feet tall by an optimistic manufacturer. It has been a joy to me for fourteen years. It had a lovely shape, though it was not as full as I would have liked. Would I rather have a real tree? Certainly. But the wonderful thing about my tree was that I could set it up, put the lights on, and decorate it by myself. I adored that tree. Through the years, the odd branch broke off now and again and I had begun wondering about its potential useful years.

At bridge a couple of weeks ago, Ann Crump, whose husband John is the part-owner/manager of Hofius, our leading hardware store, remarked that they had Christmas trees, that the most expensive had sold out immediately at more than $400 apiece, and that Government just had raised the duty so that they would cost even more next year.

The morning after bridge I was in Hofius and saw their remaining stock of trees. They had a lovely, very full six-foot tree, a bit taller and much fuller than mine, so I ignored the price tag (well below the $400 range) and bought it.

After I had it home, I read the folder enclosed in the box and learned that I could not use my usual lights because they might damage the tree. It told me to use either the miniatures (which this purist does not much like) or “cool bulbs.” I had never heard of the latter. Furthermore, just last Christmas I realized that my light strings were in dangerous condition and replaced them all.

I spent twenty-four miserable hours thinking that I probably would have to return the tree. I went back to Hofius, planning to talk to John about my tragedy, but stopped by the Christmas decorations display first. To my amazement, there was a huge supply of cool bulbs. They were the same size as my regular ones, but instead of opaque colors, they were clear colored glass. I bought fifteen boxes of them (four bulbs per package). I already had decided to put up my old tree downstairs, so had to buy two (more) new strings of lights. They came with a total of fifty bulbs of the kind I no longer could use.

In due course, I erected my new tree. It took a substantial period of time to change all the bulbs before winding the strings around the tree. I plugged them in and wanted to weep. A cool bulb shows only a little Z-shaped glow of color from the element itself. The impression is much like that of the miniature bulbs. It was not what I grew up with, not what I wanted, but, reluctantly, what I was stuck with. Furthermore, my two strings of 25-bulbs each were not sufficient for the larger tree.

Back to Hofius next morning to buy another string of lights and six more boxes of bulbs. Painstakingly I restrung the lights, adding the new line. Instructions on the box warned not to hook more than two strings together. Plugged the two ends, one from the first two strings and the other from the new string, into my carefully positioned extension cord and one of the plugs began smoking. Instant unplugging.

Plugged in alone, the lower (new) line worked. Plugged in alone, the upper two lines did not. But they had worked perfectly the day I put the tree up.

Bucher always said, “When in doubt, read the instructions.” I checked and discovered that the plugs contained fuses. Checked the fuses on both of the bad lines and could see nothing wrong with them.

Back to Hofius next morning. No 7-AMP fuses; sold out. The helpful young man explained that they had trouble with all of their similar plugs, but that they simply inserted a small bit of metal rod in place of fuses. It sounded like instant arson to me.

Found fuses at the fifth store I tried. Inserted new fuses. Lights still did not work. Appealed to Alex. He fussed with them and snorted, “Get rid of these stupid plugs.”

Back to Hofius for plain old black rubber plugs. Replaced the end plug of the upper two strings and the lights came on. Apparently the plug connecting the two strings is okay. Can report, however, that I bought sufficient plugs to replace all, should it become necessary.

Finished trimming tree. It really is very pretty, though I still resent not having my traditional lights. These look almost like the miniatures.

And if you are wondering why in the world my tree is up so early, you can just blame my close friend Liz Maestre. She always made a point of having her tree up before her wedding anniversary on December 9th. It finally occurred to me that I loved the tree best before Christmas and that there was no law saying I couldn’t have it.

 

This Christmas morning I awoke to find a rainbow world outside my windows.

The sky was the closest nature can get to Christmas red, a glowing, brilliant near-scarlet, reflected in the mirror-calm sea in almost the same rich shade. Low clouds, dark along the horizon, looked like a bank of mangrove forming an elongated bay of the open sea in front of them. A single sailboat showed a light at the top of the mast and a small, sleeping cruise ship docked at the nearby pier was studded with lighted windows, promising life in the static scene.

Gradually, the scarlet shaded to true gold, rich, living gilt in sky and reflection. Moments later it was silver, not anonymous gray, but a rich, glowing silver with faint hints of green on the water and mauve in the shadowed water behind the sparkling slash of illumination. The faintest tinge of green stained the skyline in the silver above the low clouds.

Imperceptibly, the silver took on bluish tones, still glowing with light from an unseen sun. The broad swath of sea beyond the veranda was an ice blue, seemingly lit from beneath the surface, and the skyline was a living, bluish silver lightly streaked with the faintest of rosy blushes just above the fringe of clouds. Although it was near-daylight, the illumination of sky and its reflection in the sea were glows beyond the normal, a living display of the nature of light itself.

 

The holidays were the happiest time I have had in years. It was wonderful having my whole family here. Carli and Tom arrived on December 23rd. We. We had our big Christmas dinner mid-afternoon on the 24th to avoid complications the next day. Christmas Day we had a gorgeous time opening a mountain of presents slowly. María and Alex went to see her parents later in the morning and I had a Christmas brunch about noon to allow María and Alex plenty of time to get ready for their traditional late-Christmas-afternoon party. I made an appearance at the party, but left the younger generation to enjoy themselves while I retired to the quiet of my own house and the company of only the TV and dogs.

The whole holiday season was utterly delightful. Carli and Tom had arrived recovering from colds and exhausted from heavy business and social pressures, so they were happy to sit around together while I went to the office or to indulge in unaccustomed naps. They seemed to spend a major part of their time arguing enthusiastically over language and usage. The new Webster’s Unabridged that María and Alex gave me for Christmas, and all my other language reference books, never left the coffee table. It was fun.

I had a big cocktail party (my first in years) on the Saturday between Christmas and New Year’s. One day we drove up to the Belize Zoo, which just has been moved to handsome new quarters not far from the original zoo. And aside from that, we were fairly quiet. The weather was cold and rainy most of the time so they did not get any boating, as Alex had hoped they might. C&T took us all out for dinner for my birthday, and they left on January 6th.

Amusingly, it was a special decade for three of us. Tom was 50 in December, I was 70 in January, Carli will be 40 in February. Very few signs of tears or trauma anywhere.