How is it that some seasonal observances pass so quickly and others linger well into the year?

The thought occurred as my son Ted dropped by Saturday to help take down the Christmas tree. There wasn’t a rush to “take out” the tree. It could have waited another week, maybe even a month and that wouldn’t have really mattered. The only reason for doing it Saturday is that Ted was here and it was great to have his help.

Besides, he was right. The tree, or what was left of it, was tinder dry. This was a fire hazard although it was nice to have the lights and the warmth it brought to the living room.

Carol packed the ornaments as we removed them.

“Can you leave a string of lights over the doorway?”

I had the feeling we weren’t going to let go of the Christmas spirit that quickly. Ted obliged. Carol gave a nod of approval.

Think about it. Thanksgiving doesn’t have such an enduring life. Dried corn stalks, turkey cutouts, gourds and cornucopias filled with leftover Halloween candy disappear within days of the turkey feast. Sure, a few of those giant turkey and Pilgrim blowups linger on lawns until their deflated plastic forms are vague reminders of the holiday. I haven’t seen any Valentine’s blowups, although for sure you can buy them. And what about heart shaped Valentine’s lights? They must be available. Love and signs of affection surely have lasting power, but they don’t.

Christmas is another story.

Neither Carol nor my friends have expressed amazement at our tree, as bedraggled as it had become. Rather, with a tinge of amazement, they declare it’s nice to share the Christmas spirit. Of course, that could be a polite way of saying “you know, it’s February, and when are you going to catch up?”

Yet, I feel they take comfort in looking at the ornaments that over the years have become our friends. Some are just amusing, like the fat hippo wearing a bikini. What on earth does that have to do with the meaning of Christmas?  But it did bring a chuckle and year after year until she was swept from her perch to splinter on the hard wood flooring.  Then there are the ornaments given to recall places and events. The miniature bag of Rocky Point clam cakes, the tiny Royal typewriter, a replica of the one I had on my first reporting job, and the guitar like the one Carol plays. So many ornaments have been collected over the years. Some are shiny objects – balls, stars, icicles – that reflect light and bring sparkle to the season.  Others, like the doves that lose more and more of their white feathers every year take up their places in the upper branches. And then there is the fleet of boats, actually a sailboat, canoe and fishing trawler that seem to purposely cruise the lower branches.

It all came down and was packed away quickly, leaving a thick trail of pine needles across the living room carpet and out the front door. We’ll be finding those prickly needles for months.  For the moment, even dried out, their scent is wonderfully fresh.

And then we have the lights over the doorway. They’ll be twinkling until warmer weather and we open the porch doors. But even then the Christmas spirit lives on, as it should.