Um, Thanks?

I opened my front door (which I never use) last night to go get my mail, and discovered a tall box at my door. Maybe 1' x 1' x 3'.

Someone sent me something? Side of the box references "balsam pine" and "Maine".

I open it. It's a tiny, pre-decorated Christmas tree. From my mom.



It took me a little while to sort out my feelings.

I felt guilty about the wasted resources. Tree killed.

Mom often sends useless tacky crap. She'll see little teddy bears dressed as pilgrims and send them for Thanksgiving. I have tiny ceramic snow men, chirping fuzzy pastel electronic Easter chicks. Holiday kitsch made in China. That I should unceremoniously throw out. But I don't because I feel terrible depositing a gift from my mother directly into the trash can. So I accumulate clutter, which depresses me to keep and depresses me to part with.

I felt angry, too. This wasn't a gift for me. This was a gift for her. Yeah, I'm basically not doing Christmas this year. That's my choice. So sending me something that is the most Christmasy thing possible, something that, worst of all, smells like Christmas, is really underhanded. Maybe I'm avoiding Christmas because I just can't deal with the highest "hearth, home, love & family" of holidays in a year in which my hearth, home, love, and family have all run aground on the iceburg of divorce? Maybe rubbing my nose in Christmas is going to be upsetting for me? But she doesn't see that. She just sees me not doing what she wants. I'm running away from Christmas when she thinks I should run towards it. So she puts Christmas, literally, right in front of me.

And I felt sad. Sad that my mom really doesn't know me well enough to have a clue what I might like. Sad that she hasn't enough of a clue to know what I wouldn't appreciate.

I'm sure she meant well.

Do I wait to toss it until it dries into a pile of pine needles, or do I preemptively ditch it, save myself the mess and suffer the shame of wasting my mother's hard-earned money?

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree...