Twelve Days of Christmas 2024, Part VI: Remembering ‘Woody’ and Lebanon

*The ornament I made in Boy Scouts 39 years ago is still going strong.*

It’s amazing how the smallest thing can unlock a memory. That happened a few Sundays ago when we decorated the family Christmas tree. Before I get to that, though, I have to say the fact that the tree was even up was stunning. My wife has been adamant about not setting it up too early.

For a few days, the tree had nothing on it, and the only decorations were lights and a Kansas City Royals plate meticulously placed on branches in the middle. It was at that moment that I realized that plate is only there because we lost both of our cats this year. In the past 16 years, that plate would have been reduced to smithereens while Cookie and Sunday jacked with the tree.

As we unpacked the ornaments, I was focused on finding a handful of decorations, namely the piece I made in 1985 during Boy Scouts. Before I got to that bell-shaped craft, I came across a couple of ornaments that I don’t remember seeing for years.

“Shana, who made these? They look familiar,” I said to my wife.

“I believe those are the ones your grandmother made that your mom gave to us last year,” she said.

For years, I wondered where those things were. And, as I placed them on the tree, the memory of my grandma spending Christmas with us in 1984 came flooding back. That was the last holiday we saw her because she moved in with her daughters to Washington state.

I found the Boy Scout ornaments moments later. Somehow, at 39 years old, it’s in remarkable shape considering it’s made of Styrofoam and thread. Even the blue paint looks new. That ornament took me back to Christmastime in Lebanon, Missouri, where we lived from 1984 to 1989.

Most of my favorite Christmases happened during that time. My grandmother’s stay with us in 1984, the flashy Kansas City Royals jacket the year they won their first World Series, the G.I. Joe fighter jet in 1986 and, of course, the Nintendo in 1988.

Then my mind wondered to my friend Chris “Woody” Woodrum, who passed away unexpectedly in January 2023. Chris and I became friends through the Boy Scouts, namely while we were hanging upside down to receive our first badge.

Chris and our mutual friends were a significant part of my childhood. We were in many of the same classes, and stuck together as the chubby, nerdy misfits. As I’ve written in this space previously, leaving Lebanon in the summer of 1989 was a bit traumatic at age 12. Overnight, I had to leave a place where I was comfortable and leave behind friends. Remember, back in those days, there was no Internet or social media.

But I was left with many memories, including bonding with Chris and his friends Matt and Duane during P.E. classes we all hated. Along with Patrick, who I considered my best friend, we had similar senses of humor, as well as a mutual interest in professional wrestling and video games. I still think about those days often, sort of a personal “The Wonder Years.”

Even though Chris had quite a few health problems in his final years, nobody saw his death coming as suddenly as it did. I’d recently exchanged messages with him. He was an avid reader of my blog, especially the Twelve Days of Christmas series I run every year.

Matt and Chris were like brothers, and I’ll always remember something the former said on social media about a big part of childhood dying with Woody. Though a few of my schoolmates have died through the years, they didn’t hit as close to home as Chris’ death.

We still miss Woody dearly, but he’ll always have a special place in our memories.