You know what? A friend of mine in a comic news blog once said "Blogging on the weekends is a bitch". He's right. I mean, most people have off on the weekends, and want to do stuff that they'll talk about on monday (or sooner if they've just seen "Return of the King" and haven't come down off the three-hours-stuck-in-one-seat high yet [and before you ask, no I haven't seen it yet]), but certainly, if you're stuck in a place/position (like say... work for example) where you normally WOULD post to your blog, the last thing you want to actually do is blog!

Also, someday I'll get some links up in that little box in the corner (aside from my email link) to cool sites and other blogs (so if you have a cool blog, you know, share. Let me know. I'll take a look). You can see some of where I spend my days when I'm not actually working (which is not too terribly much, actually).

Well, we have Christmas coming up very soon, and I'm probably the last person to say "Bah Humbug", but...


Bah Humbug.

I used to love Christmas at home, especially when I was steadily working. I love buying gifts, and watching the faces of my loved ones as they opened them. I moved away from home in April 2000. I spent several christmases with my former girlfriend and her family. It was a nice, quiet traditional Christmas. 7 children in the family (the youngest was 19 in 2000, so no actual kids, aside from grandkids [my girlfriends nieces and nephew to be precise]), and for the most part, not a lot of money. So it was a nice, pleasant time, and they were very neat, so there wasn't a warzone of ribbon and torn wrapping paper after the present opening. It also took awhile, as everyone was neat and patient, so no ravenous ripping. This was nice, but certainly not what I'm used to. This may come as something of a surprise, in the fact that I'm the youngest member of my immediate family, so it wasn't like I used to watch a bunch of kids opening up gifts with glee. Just happy family members. And even after my dad passed away (January 10th, 1995. 3 days before his 50th birthday, and so soon after Christmas), we were still able to have a wonderful christmas. Mom always made baked ham and homemade potatoe salad. It was wonderful. there was even a year (before dad passed on) that we had little money, and I actually wound up making most of the presents I gave. I made an eye glass case for dad using flat, wooden sticks and felt (so as not to scratch up the glasses). It even had a little lock I made. And I made earrings for my mom and sister. 35 pairs of them! For Christmas that year, the only thing I got was a set of nail clippers (toenail clipper, fingernail clipper and a little knife thingie, in a little carrying case). Almost 10 years later, I still have it, and use it regularly, and cherish it deeply.

Later on, when I started working regularly, I was definetly santa. The first year, I got my sister a stereo, and a big white stuffed bear, and mom got a VCR (I was tricky with that. After she went to bed, I disconnected the old one that didn't work so well, and hooked up the new one, and simply wrapped up the remote and instruction book), and a bunch of other stuff for mom, dad and sis. (this was in 1994, just a couple of weeks before Dad would pass on). It was one of the happiest Christmases ever for me. The first real Christmas that *I* could make it happy for the family, instead of relying on them to make it happy for me. Even after Dad left us, christmas wasn't so bad. My nephew was born in mid 95, so there was baby stuff to be bought, and after that, educational and toddler stuff.

Then I moved, following my heart (literally). It was wonderful for awhile, but I grew homesick on the holidays. Things just weren't the same. Then last year (2002) it happened. My girlfriend and I went our seperate ways (amicably. She still calls me "sweetie" and "love" when we speak), and it just got too expensive to live in North Carolina (shortly after I moved there, the job market bottomed out. I was doing freelance for awhile, but when I needed a job, I couldn't get one, even at a mall during seasonal hiring! I just wasn't meant to stay...), so mom, with open arms, invited me back home. After Dad passed away, maybe a year or two later mom and I had had one major spat, and it was like a floodgate. We got EVERYTHING off our chests, and what a relief. No more assuming what the other person was thinking (Mom thought that I held her responsible for Dad's passing, because she didn't force him to go into the hospital. Hey, he just had the flu, who knew it would lead to congestive heart failure? I certainly don't blame her. Never did. Had a little guilt myself, because Dad collapsed right in front of me, and I felt helpless. Couldn't even catch him when he fell). But it was good. After that, mom and I got along wonderfully. She'd ask me for advice, I'd give it, she'd ignore me (every time!) and I turned out to be always right (seriously, that's not ego talking. I just seemed to have the right sense for the situation and she'd never listen). But when I left, she said her door was always open for me.

So I returned on the bus trip to end all bus trips (maybe I'll explain that horror story sometime). And it was close to christmas. I had some money, and went shopping. I made sure mom, sis and my then 7 year old nephew got something from me. My gifts to mom and sis were the only ones they got. Mom and sis agreed to buy mostly for my nephew (with his grandparents on his fathers side buying him toys constantly, mom and sis agreed that they would get him necessities; mostly clothing and a dresser/armoire he needed for his room). God bless him, I love my nephew. But he was not raised well at all (and not really due to my sister, as she was busting her butt at work, to make ends meet. My now ex-bro in law... well, I'll speak no ill of him at this time, but you get the picture). He has no respect for anything, or anyone. He's still a loving little boy, but has no concept (or seeming care of) hurting people or others (we try to keep him and the cats and dog seperated, because he will intentionally rouse her, even be somewhat malicious towards her). But still, he's family. Christmas comes. But it's not Christmas. Not really. There some nice decorations (Mom was always a big decorator. And she's been collecting various ceramic villages since 1990, so she's got quite a collection, and she's an artist when it comes to setting it up). But for the first time I can EVER remember, there's no ham and 'tatoe salad. Budget and food shopping didn't coincide this year, although I'm promised it later on (maybe after the holidays, she said). It was alright. I mean hey, I was home for the holidays, with family for the first time in years. Christmas morning came. I honestly didn't know that I was the only one who bought anything for sis and mom. I thought they'd at least have given each other a token gift or two. And then the gift giving.

There was a nice haul (all of it for my nephew, save the two gifts for mom and sis I bought). And my nephew started opening gifts. After a few gifts, that's when it dawned on me... it's not Christmas anymore. My nephew was just an opening machine. Not taking the time to appreciate anything (unless it was a toy that caught his fancy), and he just wanted to move onto the next thing. Granted, even as kids we didn't like getting clothes. But we appreciated them and were thankful for them. Always. When we got toys or electronics or whatever, we were VERY thankful. We used to start opening gifts around 7:30am, and we wouldn't be done until close to 10am. We weren't as meticulous as my former girlfriends family, but we made sure wrapping paper was thrown out, and everybody LOOKED at the gift they'd just opened. Afterwards, we would hug and stuff, you know, family love. There were more presents last year than many of our own former Christmases, yet it took my nephew barely 40 minutes to tear through them all. After the last was done, and he thoroughly searched in vain for more presents, he wanted to go play with some new toy. His mom (my sis) had to remind him to give my mom and me a hug and thank us. Not that we do it for thanks, of course, but it's like the cherry on top of the sundae. It's just not "complete" without a round of love.

God bless him, I love my nephew. But I also feel sadness. Sadness at what used to be, and what seemingly, he may never experience. I dreamt of coming home for christmas, and finally did after several years. Then when it was all over by 8:15am, I couldn't figure out what I had longed so much for. And while I know I can't recover what is missing with my family now, I hope someday to revitalize that with my own family, my own kids. I want what Christmas used to be (to me at least), because it was so much built in my heart, we didn't need the gifts. That was abundantly clear over several financially harrowing Christmases. How deeply does it wound when a heartbuilt construct is torn asunder? I know it can (and have faith that it will) be built even stronger. I have a stronger foundation, but am lacking the building blocks. But that is why, until I can rebuild it again, Christmas is a bah humbug to me...

I would like to note that I am a christian (of the born again variety). It is Jesus, the "reason for the season" that is my solace. But even before I accepted Jesus into my life, I always knew Christmas was so much more than the sum of the commercialism pieces it's largely made up of nowadays. This is why my foundation is stronger now, but also why it hurts so much more that, what was, has been torn down.

Good night, everybody.