T is for Tree

The Christmas after my son was born, according to his father’s family tradition, we planted the tree we used for that year. There it is right behind him.

When we bought it, we were told it was a Blue Spruce, the Colorado state tree. Sometimes it really looks like a Blue Spruce, sometimes it looks like a just plain pine.

Just within the last two years has the tree gotten to be taller than my son. I like the long-term tradition of the tree, as long as his father’s family owns this house, that tree will be there, which means a lot to me. I even remember the day his dad and grandfather brought the tree home and the smell of it filling up the living room. Weird how those memories stay with you and fill you up with at the oddest moments.

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