{"id":13544,"date":"2024-12-17T13:22:23","date_gmt":"2024-12-17T20:22:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/?p=13544"},"modified":"2024-12-17T13:22:25","modified_gmt":"2024-12-17T20:22:25","slug":"under-the-tree","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/under-the-tree\/","title":{"rendered":"Under the Tree"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer\u2019s voice on the page.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Under the Tree<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

By Mary O\u2019Brien<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

You wake me with coffee –<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wrapped gifts \u2018til three.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTen minutes,\u201d I moan<\/p>\n\n\n\n

into my pajama sleeve.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sugar plums danced<\/p>\n\n\n\n

round the chimney with care,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

ten minutes later<\/p>\n\n\n\n

your hand on my hair.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s now 5 AM,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

there\u2019s a turkey to splay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s a terrible, horrible,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

wonderful day.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A giggle of memory<\/p>\n\n\n\n

tickles my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The one with twin bikes,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

trusty training wheels behind.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When what to my bleary<\/p>\n\n\n\n

eyes should appear,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

you\u2019re under the tree,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

shedding a tear.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The loss of your mother<\/p>\n\n\n\n

now freshly pricked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All ornaments she gifted us<\/p>\n\n\n\n

tenderly tick<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

on a tree heavy with memories,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

some cold tonight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Others thick in the throat,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

hot with tears of hindsight.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The babies we lost,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the parents we buried,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the day that we met,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the day we were married.<\/p> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The daughter, the ballerina,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the fiddler, the teen,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

your year of retirement<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and all in between,<\/p>\u00a0

are enwrapped in these trinkets<\/p><\/p>\n\n\n

that emerge every year.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I silently thank the giver<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

and kiss away your tear.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Mary O’Brien<\/strong> writes from the comfort of her Celebrated Art Cave (spare bedroom) near Boise, Idaho. She writes weekly with Jumpstart Writing Workshops, as well as a smattering of smaller groups. She revels in looking for opportunities to capture memories and imaginings via daily life, nature and her impossibly bright grandchildren.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

You can read more of Mary\u2019s writing:<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Reality\u2019s Ruse<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer\u2019s voice on the page. Under the Tree By Mary O\u2019Brien You wake me with coffee – I wrapped gifts \u2018til three. \u201cTen minutes,\u201d I moan into my pajama sleeve.   Sugar plums danced round the chimney with care, ten minutes later your hand on my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"sfsi_plus_gutenberg_text_before_share":"","sfsi_plus_gutenberg_show_text_before_share":"","sfsi_plus_gutenberg_icon_type":"","sfsi_plus_gutenberg_icon_alignemt":"","sfsi_plus_gutenburg_max_per_row":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1474],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13544","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sparks"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p43Dj8-3ws","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13544","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13544"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13544\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13552,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13544\/revisions\/13552"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13544"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13544"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thewritespot.us\/marlenecullenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13544"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}