Maybe it just needs a little love...

I finally got a Christmas tree tonight, despite the nasty, rainy, cold weather.

It's a little one. Not exactly a Charlie Brown tree, but definitely a little cockeyed (like me) and not exactly the belle of the ball (like me). But it's so cute and smells so nice, I can't help but smile when I look at it.

It's the first tree I've gotten in years. Since my ex-husband and I split up in 1997, actually. See, I grew up with an artificial tree (a really good one, which my mom still has) so I never had a real Christmas tree until he and I moved in together. And over the years, we created our own holiday traditions surrounding the buying of the tree. We'd always go at night, then come home and listen to my favorite Christmas albums (Nat King Cole, Johnny Mathis, and of course, the music from "A Charlie Brown Christmas") while decorating the tree (and arguing about the placement of the lights). Then I'd make us some hot chocolate with Bailey's, and we'd sit and admire our handiwork. This was a nearly ten year tradition, so when we split, it was far too painful to contemplate doing any of this on my own. I couldn't even listen to those Christmas tunes for at least a year or two after the break-up.

Even when the hurt subsided, it seemed kinda silly to get a tree just for me. Christmas dinner was usually at someone else's house, and in recent years, I've spent several Christmases in Wisconsin, so it just seemed pointless.

Until now. I went at night. I had to go to the store to buy more lights, of course. I listened to those very same Christmas CDs, and when I was finished, I poured myself a nice glass of wine (I have no Bailey's!) and admired my handiwork. It's the very first tree I've decorated all on my own. And I don't feel the least bit sad about it.