Our neighbours to the south of our house now approach their nineties. He lost his vision a short time ago, though modern surgery, thankfully, has just restored the sight in one eye. Her health conditions require that she sleep a good deal. They used to be actively involved in block events. They try now-- their minds remain strong-- but their physical circumstances limit their activities, and much of the energy they have goes, quite understandably, to their children and grandchildren.
COVID-19 has imposed further restrictions on them.
They used to always decorate their back porch for Christmas. That wouldn't be happening in 2020.
Our neighbours on the north side texted a few of us on the block and suggested we set up an outdoor-appropriate tree. People gathered contributions: plastic decorations, outdoor lights, outdoor-friendly extension cord and timer. One woman on the street had a line on a spare tree, an old one belonging to someone she knew.
On the proposed day of the set-up, December 19, we learned that the tree fell through. We agreed over texts we'd do what we could, and perhaps just decorate the porch. We also debated about time. Late afternoon, when we could see? Evening, when we could be furtive, as thieves in the night? Two people on opposing sides of this historic debate had a bit of holiday dispute over this matter, but these unnecessary tiffs can be overcome easily. I figured everything would go ahead at some point.
With local COVID rates up and new restrictions looming, I was running errands that morning, ending them by stopping at the comic and gaming shop run by acquaintances of mine, a couple who run the local nerd con. They're also reading my book over the holidays, which is nice to hear. They've moved their store recently, but bigger and more attractive digs aren't going to help much if they have to return to online sales only. After socializing a little and purchasing a copy of The Immortal Hulk, I returned home.
Our other, older car was gone. My wife hadn't mentioned going anywhere, so I had to wonder what came up. A text message produced no answer.
Presently, she returned home. She had a lead on an artificial tree, one of those snow-white ones, and acquired it for one-quarter of the price. White trees apparently aren't doing so well this year, and the Christmas goods were being unloaded.
So, tree.
That evening, several residents of our block masked up, slipped under cover of darkness, and quietly put the tree and decorations and lights together on a back porch, all while trying to keep reasonable distance from each other. Everyone looks so sketchy during COVID, like ninja assassins or old west outlaws. I was a little concerned the police would show up, thinking we were breaking into the house. Fortunately, nothing of the sort happened. Our elderly neighbours were watching television in a room at the front of the house. They heard nothing.
One of the organizers phoned the octogenarians after we left, and asked them to check out their back porch. The white tree, lit with white and yellow lights, contrasted nicely with the night, a miniature galaxy on the familiar back porch.
Merrie Christmas.
I hope the world has a brighter New Year.