So, here I am, sitting in my own house on Christmas Eve. It sure doesn't feel like Christmas, and I'm really kind of bummed out about it. Strike that - I'm pretty frakking depressed. Christmas is my favorite holiday of the year, and my home has all the Christmas charm of... well, I don't know what. The Grinch's lair, I suppose.
I love Christmas. I love decorating my house with lights and my stupid blow-up and light-up snowpeople. This year? No lights on the trees - haven't had time. Only one snowperson on my lawn, because the other two kept getting blown up the street by the crazy wind and weak little pins that were "holding" it down. I love putting up my Christmas tree and decorating it, and putting other fun decorations around the house - lights on the bannister, stockings (two Yankees stockings, an ESPN stocking and a BIG stocking for my presents) hung up and holiday-appropriate statues on the television, table & dispensing soap in the bathroom. This year? There's a Santa cap forlornly draped on the banister, and my in-laws took down one of the four stockings because the baby gate wouldn't open all the way.
My father's in California, and my brother's family is way too busy dealing with their church duties and a difficult mother-in-law to be able to spend much time with us. My friends are all with their families, in different parts of New Jersey, and don't have much time for us either. A few phone calls, which are nice, but that's about it.
Granted, my son will be coming out of the hospital soon. That's a great Christmas present, all things considered. But, you know what? This Christmas sucks eggs. Big time.
Blech. My favorite holiday of the year, flushed down the toilet. I'm really unhappy about this. I'll get over it - in the long run, the only one hurt by this is me. I can deal with it. My wife doesn't really "get" Christmas, and her family would strongly prefer that I not soil her household with a Christmas tree. So, there you have it.
I know, I know. My son's got cancer, and I'm upset that I don't have a plastic Christmas tree in my living room. Boo hoo. I'm allowed to be self-pitying every once in a while.
Gotta go. Time to shave & shower. I've got two masses to sing tonight.
It sure doesn't feel like Christmas, though. I tell you what.