December and I were only ever friends for a short time. I know and knew people that December’s worse for than I consider it for myself. I know people who love December 365 days a year. I used to get in trouble for my disdain for December because my negativity was worse than wet snow in your boot and I could never muster enough Bah HUMBUGS until the inevitable talking to would come and I’d hate in relative silence with pouting, under my breath snips, stomping around and dagger eyes.
I remember Christmases with our family when I was really young, we were still in Ontario, we’d go to Niagara Falls, and not the Christmases but the way the Falls look in the winter, the ice thick and frozen into cubes on the rails and the reflection of the ice and the extra sting to my already cold cheeks and the mist freezing to my wee peach fuzz are the memories I see in my mind.
This one time, when I went to visit Santa he gave me an envelope a tiny manila one, the type that you’d place a single key in and told me to give it to my parents until Christmas Eve, it felt empty to me but I was to pour the contents onto the snow and in that moment Santa would know whether I had been good or bad, it also wouldn’t be until that moment that I would know if he was coming that year. For me, as a kid, this was stress to the ultimate max, there was no way I was going to risk Santa not coming to bring me presents and so I did not touch the envelope, I didn’t even sneak a peak. When Christmas Eve came and I took the envelope outside and I watched its contents, sand like as they fell, but silver on the snow with a glisten brighter than that of the snow already under the moonlight, I didn’t understand why what had come out of that envelope was so radiant, I just knew that it meant Santa was coming to give me presents and that I was good enough.
To this day even with Adam playfully teasing me I SWEAR I heard bells ringing far off in the distance that again, to this day, I INSIST were from his sleigh. True story.
When we left Ontario, December, Christmas and I ended whatever relationship we’d had. We try and get back together some years but it rarely works out. It doesn’t even have anything to do with the weather, I would much rather have the rain than the super cold and the snow. Ooops did I write that on the internet? Well, yes, even when I lived in the North grew up there etc; I never hid the fact that I preferred the snow on the mountain where I would ski on it.
Once out in B.C. it was just flat out lonely. And it was never about Christmas it was about resenting family and bitching about them and wondering what they were saying about us and why weren’t they phoning when they were all together, why did we have to call them. All the while I was screaming in my mind “because YOU are the ones who left”. It was the same shit different pile every fucking year. I came to dread it. Obviously both sides were right, so no one can win right?
There are things about Christmas that can and do make me emotional in a positive way, modern movies like The Family Stone and Love Actually touch me, and people do some extraordinary things, you get to see people you haven’t seen since last December that you really like but just never get to see but for the most part the second December starts I can’t wait until it is over.
This year to keep me from tears for the very first time in my entire life when I say I’m not doing Christmas, I mean it, like for serious, WE are not doing Christmas. You know, I married this crazy awesome man, and he loves Christmas but this year I get it my way which means to me it doesn’t exist maybe I will have McDonald’s for dinner that night, I’ll prolly play video games because Adam will be home on the statutory days. This is so seriously awesome, no decorations, no shopping, the only Christmas movies I’d watched at all until yesterday were Die Hard and Eastern Promises. The few songs we play have lines in them like “please daddy don’t get drunk this Christmas” and “the stripper in my bed was ugly and fat” and “it was Christmas in prison”, or Mariah Carey is picturable naked in them so I’m good.
This December is still turning into a gong show even avoiding it man how do I handle it the years I participate in it? People are so miserable yet trying to pretend and portray happiness it just kills me. BUT because my non participation is still a positive thing you don’t have to worry about me raining on your Christmas parade it’s like religion, don’t preach any Jesus speech at me or I get to start talking about cults, vasectomies and pagans, just a few of my favourite things.