Diary of a Laid-Off Dad: Episode 10
I couldn’t help but smile.
There stood our Christmas tree in all its glory . . . With nearly every one of our ornaments hung on the bottom branches.
After a fun-filled Thanksgiving weekend, life resumed in full force. The following week involved the usual responsibilities, such as shuttling the boys to school, my wife heading off to work, and us going through the nightly bedtime routine. Thrown into that were my recent unusual chores of searching various job boards, reaching out to professional contacts and scanning LinkedIn for any sign the job market is improving.
My upside-down schedule has not been without hope. As the week started, I saw glimpses of the coming holidays appear along my usual routes. Like the inflatable Grinch in a neighbor’s yard that I admire when taking my boys to school. Or the Christmas tree in the lobby of my son’s doctor’s office. And of course, every Target, Walmart, and HEB now bursts with more decorations, candy, and other holiday goodies than I can count.
So, with the holiday season in full swing, this past weekend our Christmas tree came out. A few years ago we inherited a plastic tree from a relative, which I admit excites me less than a real one. Still, my kids have no preference and they light up upon seeing their dad tug and wrestle the oversized box out of the garage. After some grunting and cursing under my breath, I managed to assemble it, stand and all. I had barely stepped back when both my boys swooped in with ornaments in hand . . .
I’ll pause there.
Because up until a few years ago, my boys were too young to decorate. Sure, they showed interest, staring up at the tree with those big eyes of theirs. But both their attention and arms were too short hang our dozens of decorations. That began to change a few years ago, when my oldest finally grew enough to focus and reach; now this year, my youngest can do the same.
So that pause turned into moment after moment of me admiring my two sons hanging the full collection of our decorations. Although they stretched as high as they could, the ornaments remained clustered at the bottom half of the tree. Had that been my own handiwork or my wife’s, our type-A personalities would have kicked in and we would have fussed over the perfect placement of each ornament, trying to strike a sense of balance in our neurotic minds.
That was then. Now, unless asked for help, I dared not touch the clustered, messy masterpiece before me . . .
Because next year, the ornaments will climb a little.
And the year after, a bit higher than that.
Until one year, the decorations will finally reach the top.
And I know that time will come sooner than I expect. Because the year of me pausing after setting up the tree is already here, within the blink of an eye of my sons being born.
Such a holiday memory is a welcome reprieve from my layoff and subsequent job search. And it reminds me of the precious gifts of time and family, how neither should be wasted, especially in moments that are fleeting . . .
Because my boys are growing up quickly and will never be this way again. Such thoughts melt away my career anxiety and frustration, for I know I’ll find another job, but these precious moments won’t last forever.
Or, to put it more eloquently, one of my boys’ favorite episodes of Bluey said it best, “‘Flowers may bloom again, but a person never has the chance to be young again.’”
