Short Stories


Every year I follow a tradition for Christmas. Of late I follow ‘The Plan’.

Me and Granddad sorted out ‘The Plan’ before he died. You see at the time I thought nothing of it but I think he knew he was going because he made his last wish to have Christmas. And he didn’t want some blingy Christmas of flashing lights and singing Santas, instead he made me promise to make it traditional.

That year I had already brought his gifts and some wooden Christmas tree decorations. To go more traditional.

But then he went. It was sudden.

There was a vote.

“I don’t think it ought to happen.”

“Nan is upset.”

“I don’t feel like Christmas.”

And there was crying. Lots of crying. But I remembered the conversation we had, me and Granddad. So I put my foot down.

“We are having Christmas. There will be a tree but no flashing lights…”

And I went on.

The tree was bought, a live one that could be ‘freed’ after Christmas. From a few minutes of conversation my Granddad started a tradition. Now, every year we have a live tree and traditional decorations… As well as the meal with all the trimmings and far too many presents. But the actual tradition just sneaked up on me. Last year I suggested getting a plastic tree. It didn’t come to blows but it did get ugly…

We got a live tree which is growing ‘free’ on the smallholding having plugged a hole in the fence.

This post was inspired by the daily prompt – time after time.

8 thoughts on “Tradition…

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