Friday after Thanksgiving, I did what I always do on Black Friday---I brighten up the day by putting up our Christmas lights.
Every year, I drag my lights out of the attic and out of the basement---I have a lot of lights----and I call my dad and ask him to come over to help with the ladder. He was always more than willing to come and offer his assistance. In fact, it was kind of embarrassing the first time he came over because I had no idea how to work the extension ladder, and I was scared to death to get up there and hang lights on the high gutter. Regrettably, I did not take that class in Law School. So, after watching me on my first trip up that first year, my dad took over the entire operation.
The first few years in my current home, if my dad were in a hurry, he would ask me to invite my brother over to help. This was complete and utter humiliation for me, as I was then reduced to getting coffee for them as they put up my lights.
My brother is a complete show-off because he is able to get up on the roof and parade along the edge like a cat. I have actually tried to prevent this because I can't even stand to watch it. At this point, I am always ordered to go inside while they work. Here I am, a grown man in my own house, being put in a time-out by my dad. Humiliating! By the way, I hate cats.
As the years passed, and my dad got older... and I got more comfortable going up and down the ladder... I would still call him to ask if he could come and help.
He always came. And he always held that ladder. I think he would have been offended had I not called.
Even though he passed away in March, I still called my mom when it came time to put up the lights. Ever protective of her baby boy, she suggested that I call my brother. Even she knows how helpless I am.
I assured her that I would be okay and that I would recruit some helpers. We then both agreed that my dad would have gladly come over to help if he were still here. There are a lot of things that I loved about my dad, and his willingness to drop everything to come over and help was one of his greatest qualities.
Well, the lights still needed to go up, so I had to rely on my immediate family members, whom I love dearly, to help with the ladder.
My son Matthew was the first person to offer his assistance. I do not own a ladder, so I borrow my neighbor's. Everyone on our street knows it is Christmastime when they see me tiptoeing through the neighborhood with another man's extension ladder.
Matthew was great at first, but then he started darting in and out of the house. It seems that the Michigan/Ohio State game was on TV, and the results of that game were more important than dear old dad plummeting thirty feet to a certain death. Matthew assured me that the fall wouldn't be so bad. He was probably correct; the fall would not be so bad, but I am pretty sure that the sudden stop would have been a problem.
I really did not have too much of a gripe with Matthew going in and out because the first section that I do is above the flat part of the patio, and the ladder stays pretty straight. I really needed help moving the ladder and having someone hold the ladder as the walkway slopes downhill. That section comes at the very end of the process. No problem. My lovely wife was now on the job.
We soon had to maneuver the ladder down a step and work down an incline. This is definitely a two-person task. In the middle of us both moving the ladder, the phone rang. Just so you know, seventy-five percent of the time, my wife just lets the phone ring and never answers it. And she only answers it if she can actually find a phone to answer---it rarely makes it back onto the cradle. Her refusal to answer the phone and the fact that phones never make it back to the cradle usually drives me crazy.
Anyway, on this day, at this time, in the middle of moving a ladder that is extended to the tippy-top of the roof, my wife decided that she was going to take this call. She literally dropped everything, including her hands that were assisting with the ladder, and she dashed into the house. The ladder started to swing and sway as I tried to prevent a disaster. Fortunately, disaster was averted, but my confidence in my ladder-holder was shot. Upon Cheryl's return, she, like Matthew, assured me that falling wouldn't be that bad. I love that my family thinks I bounce like a ball.
The lights are up. And they look great.
Putting up lights this year was a different experience without my dad. I thought of him as I climbed up and down that ladder, and yet I felt an emptiness where he used to stand. I am sure that Christmas will be a little bit different, too, and I will continue to think of him. In fact, had I fallen off of that stupid ladder, my final thought would have been I wish that my dad were here!
That thought may be a familiar refrain this Christmas season.
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