Christmas trees
When we were kids, Mahito & I (and eventually Aiki) would head out into the woods in search of the perfect Christmas tree. The perfect Christmas tree had to be symmetric, with evenly spaced branches, and no gaping holes that would require creative decoration to disguise. It would take us hours, and we would wander through ravines, up and down tree-covered hillsides and dense thickets search of the right one.
We always found one. And on our way home we would search for a fallen tree to take the top off of– We would take that mangled, asymmetric top to present to our parents as “the perfect Christmas tree.” We always did our best to convince them that this one was it, before revealing our actual perfect tree. I don’t think we ever fooled them, so I’m not sure why we kept trying but at some point it started to feel like tradition.
Mahito would trim the bottom few branches, set up the tree, (make several wreaths, hand carve some decorations, bake some cookies– darn overachiever) and we would decorate. No time of year felt quite as magical as the moment when the Christmas tree lights came on for the first time.
Aiwa
This weekend, at our SBR memorial service for Mahito at the park, we all gathered on the trail to pay our last respects. My youngest son, Bear as Ma called him, was so like Mahito as a child. According to Mahito, he didn’t like clothing, …and almost never wore shoes. He was busy exploring and curious to touch and climb anything and everything. That is our Bear. Will be bare footed out in the dirt, no matter how rocky the terrain. Bear LOVED Mahito. He ran to him every time we saw him, and would start shouting his name the second he would spot Mahito’s truck anywhere. So, on Sunday, we all gathered together to have our service. As we stood there waiting to begin, silence fell over all of us. Bear looked around and with big eyes looked up to me and asked in a worried voice, “Mommy! Where Maheedo?” He is just 4 years old, and quite big for his age. But not really past his stage of autonomy. So, for him to have asked at that exact moment, when everyone could hear him, was divine. My family and I miss him so much. He was so much to all of us. My oldest son, Chrish, proudly told everyone at the gathering this weekend that Mahito took him on his first black diamond and Mahito is “the whole reason [he] rides so much better than [his] mom.”
I never would be holding on to pain, just to have something to hold onto. But, that is exactly what I find myself doing. Holding onto the pain left by his untimely death, just because it’s the last tangible thing I have of him.
Anne, you raised an incredible man. So beloved by so many, it is unfathomable to most. Knowing all the ways he connected with my kids, especially Bear, gives me such hope that I too, one blessed day, might have also raised such a child into a man.
mahito - December 16th, 2010 at 2:20 am