Christmas Boxes of Boxes

S.A.Leys Photo

I’m sitting here looking at the snow thinking… (I know – never a good thing right?) Years ago, around this time (probably a few weeks sooner..) the dreaded day would come when the truck arrived outside of my dad’s clothing store with our delivery of Christmas boxes. The doorbell to the stockroom would ring and parked outside would be an 18 wheeler truck filled with 108 (the most I remember) boxes of boxes.

We’d (my dad, brother and I) would have to find enough room in the stockroom to put them all – so they’d go upstairs and anywhere else we could fit them until they could be unpacked, folded together, ribbons and tissue added and then delivered to each department. It was the most anxiety-provoking of days – worse than black Friday or the day after Christmas when we had the perfect storm of store returns and sales.

Yesterday I was on the phone (for over an hour) with a woman who does grief and eldercare consulting nationally. She told me about the importance of storytelling and playing the stories of the people we love who have died – completely through from beginning to end because they always have good, funny parts in them. She told me that sometimes when we experience grief, we get to the tough part and just stop at (or get stuck with) the sadness instead of going all the way through the story to the end.

The anxiety-provoking truck of boxes filled with boxes is the worst of the Christmas box story.

The funniest was the year we decided to pull a joke on my dad and wrap all of his Christmas gifts in boxes from other stores – we had Talbots boxes, Macy’s boxes, Cherry and Webb boxes, Wilsons of Wickford, Narragansett, and JC Penny. It was funny to watch him as he became more frustrated upon opening each box – “why didn’t you just stay on the island?” he asked. We continued laughing as all of the boxes stacked up on the floor. It was at that point he stopped and looked at us – and then looked at the labels on the clothes. He realized that the majority of the labels (except for the ski clothes) were from his store.

Fast forward to several years later when we were unwrapping gifts one Christmas in Florida. He unwrapped a gift from friends of ours to see it in a Leys box. We all started laughing as the store had been closed for years – “are those things still around?” he asked.

After mom died, I was packing up her apartment at Blenheim and was at the post office sending something to my brother. The man behind the counter saw the name on my card and asked “are you THAT Leys?”. I said, “no, not the red-haired ones, we’re the other side of the family”. “I sure miss that store,” he said “I can’t find a Barracuta jacket anywhere!” – When he said it, I realized I missed all of those fun times; even the boxes of boxes. But I’m glad the stories and great memories are still with me.

I Found A Christmas Elf At Walmart

Today I was at Walmart looking for one of those hook thingies to hang Christmas decorations on my door. I was distracted by this really beautiful Christmas tree – the ones that have snow on them. A man walks by me and says, “wow, they’re getting so expensive, aren’t they?” (it was a 7.5 ft. tree for about $160.00). He tells me “I don’t even get a tree anymore” and that he doesn’t really celebrate Christmas since his wife died of liver cancer about 15 years ago. “She fought hard,” he tells me.

We discuss how relationships are interesting like that – how you really see someone’s strength when they are faced with adversity. He smiles upon hearing this “yes, she was quite a fighter,” he says. “I’m sorry about your loss,” I tell him – thinking that even though it was long ago, he still misses her. He tells me that there will not be anyone else for him (not sure how we got to this but we did) – but he seems content and walks me through his thoughts about the rest of the trees and the Christmas lamp post that is next to them that he thinks will be stolen in a second if someone actually purchases it and puts it out on their lawn. “Maybe it’ll help the mailman see where he is going as it gets darker,” he says.

I loved speaking with him, not only because he was telling me about his life but also because he actually looked like an elf. He was a little guy – about 5’4″ ish with short wavy hair, jeans and a red and black checkered flannel 

IMG_4973
Clearly – this is not Walmart. But it doesn’t matter as any tree with snow on it always looks beautiful. / http://www.SALeysphoto.com

shirt, and one of those small little cute beards on his chin – the kind that you see on elves when you’re shopping at Walmart.

When he left, I kept looking at the tree. Like the last thing I need in my place is a 7 1/2 ft. Christmas tree (that honestly – I would seriously keep up until April because it looked really cool). But when I think about our conversation and what he first said when he walked by me, it was like mom and dad were speaking through him – like a tactful “what the hell are you thinking buying a tree like that?”. (It was a Teresa Caputo like moment)

And yes, I left without it – but it was definitely the high point of my day. When I left, I had the 8 items I was holding in my arms and went to check out at the register (one of the ones that are staffed because I hate the self check out thing). The lady in front of me said “Please go ahead of me – you only have a few things,” but I said, “No, you go ahead, I just need to stand here and think about the way my life is going.” (which made the lady behind me crack up and tell me all about her daughter and the 7 (!) Christmas trees she has in her home.

I love these conversations that take place during the holidays; they’re not kidding when they say, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year”.