"Whadda ya get?"  Growing up in a middle class home, well a medium to lower middle class home, Christmas was always my favorite holiday.  My parents were divorced; I had one of the first divorced parents that I knew of.  Divorce parents are a bitch and half.  There is no doubt about it.  But Christmas was that one time of year where being the child of divorced parents was absolutely the best. 

"What is your father getting you this year?" asks mother.

"Your mother getting you anything good for Christmas?" inquired dad. 

One parent must try to attempt to outdo the other.  The one battle that is good to be in the middle of during the parental wars of divorce. 

Now, as I said, we weren't rich.  Not even close.  My mother raised my brother and I (who is six years my senior).  She had to work and provide for all of us, so my grandmother was resigned to watching me during some of my most mischievous times.  So we weren't rich or spoiled.  I think we usually got what we wanted at Christmas, but for some reason, my brother and I never asked for a lot. 

Every Christmas eve we would venture up the two or three blocks to my aunt's house.  Every Christmas eve was spent at my aunt's with a myarid of relatives.  I think every family has the same relatives (at least relative to that individual.  I am not going into Einstein's theory here, but that cousin you think is annoying, maybe you are that annoying cousin to someone else).  When my brother and I were younger, I would say when I was eleven and below, we made out like bandits!  You see, my aunt and her daughters (my two cousins) are significantly older than I am.  We were the only young people around, so my family would get a lot of good stuff for us.  Eventually, my one cousin had two children of her own which through us out for the running. 

After my aunt's house, we would depart on our seemingly short journey back home, usually in the wee hours of Christmas day.  For some reason the gift exchange did not begin until about eleven at night, or sometimes even later.  My brother and I would reach home and depart once more for dreamland.  We would wake up on Chirstmas morning around the seven, almost seven every year.  We would storm out of the bedroom to the living room making as much noise as possible, to make sure we woke my mom, and start rifling through the presents.  This gift exchange became wave two of presents. 

In the early evening, my other cousins would come to visit and bring us yet another wave of presents.   Number three.  Later that evening it was then usually off to dad's for wave number four.  Every time we would enter into a new phase or wave of gift getting, we were always asked, "What did you get?" "Was Santa good to you this year?"   Manners being what they were, we would always respond politely and kindly.  And usually truthfully.  Usually.

I still go to my aunt's  house on Christmas eve, still divide up Christmas day between mom and dad (and I think there are STILL competing!).  But some things change.  Last year, I had one of my best Christmases ever.  On Christmas eve, on my way to my aunt's, I made a little pit stop and proposed to the woman who I planned to share the rest of my life.  She accepted.  Of course I made a spectacle of us at my aunt's, but I did not bother me too much.  And that cousin, he really didn't get under my skin like the previous twenty Christmases.  Besides gaining a life partner, I didn't do too badly in the material gift category.

As things happen, we somehow drifted apart and the engagement was off and the relationship ceased to be.  It was not until the holiday season, which for me, started on Thanksgiving, for commercial America I think the holiday season starts sometime between Columbus day and Halloween.  I really started getting depressed.  And I am not a person who usually gets depressed.  I kept these feelings pretty much buried. 

I have also become less and less religious as I grow older which I hear is the pretty much the norm.  So, my Christmas spirit has shifted.  I seem to focus on people rather than God or gods.  I spent a lot of time contemplating what Christmas means to me.  I know, at this point I am starting to sound cliché, I beg you to bear with me during this interesting trip. 

I realized that Christmas to me is not so much what did you get, or it doesn't even have to be religious, but who I get to share my appreciation of life with.  This year was not a good Christmas.  Well, not the best.   In fact, as I am writing this, on Christmas night, I am enjoying my exquisite Christmas dinner of Velveeta Shells and Cheese.  Christmas lost its spirit this year.    But, being the type of person I am, I buried and put on the front.  You know that front.  The same one almost everyone puts up this time of year.  And I muddled through. 

This is the first Christmas I can think of where I spent most of the season alone.  I am in an odd place.  I know I can't stay locked up in my apartment all year, but I also don't want to confront the world.  I can honestly say this has been a year for self reflection.  I am not mad at anyone any more.  That has passed.  I am just sad.  I use the word sad because I feel I am not depressed.  I am hurt and will get over it.  One holiday season down, several more to go.

I must say this entire season was not bad.  In fact, I never even mentioned my best gift!  Last night, Christmas eve, my brother called my aunt's (he knew that would be where to find my mom and I).  After the phone had been passed from relative to relative, I had a short chance to talk to him for a bit.  He asked me about the family (the things he could only trust me to respond to honestly) and then put on my five year old niece.  We talked about Ninja Turtles and Brats for a bit.  I told her I hoped to be able to fly out to Colorado to visit you this summer.  She said,

"Uncle Eric, come here for Christmas!"

"I can't Kaleah," I responded.

"Why not," she said in the saddest voice I have ever heard.

"Christmas is in three hours," I reported back.

"That's why there are airplanes, Uncle Eric," she insisted, followed by a long pause. 

"I wish I could."

"Oh…alright.  Maybe next year."

Thank you Kaleah.  Thank you for wanting to share the holidays and your wonderful spirit with me.