The Christmas That Wasn’t

Twas the week before Christmas when I picked up the phone to call him. His voice sounded strange and then all of sudden “Who are you? He’s over here wasted and I want to know who you are? “John and I have been together for 10 months. Who are you”? I hung up.

Turns out he’s a great catch as long as you have really low standards and no sense of self worth. Darn it! I wanted Christmas! I bought him a gift. I bought his daughter, sister and niece a small gift. I wanted spiral ham (not to eat, just to look at). I wanted a big old gentile spread and maybe a little bit of old fashioned, tableside family argument right in the middle of dinner. I wanted to hear something like “Oh, that’s just Uncle Bob, he always drinks too much. He’ll stop cursing once we stop laughing”. I would say I wanted to see red cardigans and plaid clothing items but I think only Catholics do that.

Instead I got lied to, the flu and no Christmas. You could tell me “Go Volunteer” and I would tell you “I already do”. You can tell me all you want that it’s “Never that fun with my family” or “You are so lucky you don’t have to deal with this” or “It’s so stressful” and I am here to tell you that being raised Jewish, I have, CCE – “Cultural Christmas Envy”. I want Christmas.

I was fortunate enough to have a few Christmases when I was married. We went all out with a Griswald-like vengeance in our apartment and would spend Christmas day with my ex-husbands family. Complete with his Mom-in-law hitting a dear on the way over one year. Isn’t that a song? Oh yeah, Grandma, Reindeer…Nevermind.

Any Ho Ho Ho Hot Mess, it’s not just about Christmas. I liked someone who ended up being a liar with a bit of a shall we say “unhealthy relationship with alcohol” and I guess I’m grateful that I found out sooner rather than later. We had been dating for about a month, we were having fun and we did interesting things together like seeing the new contemporary collection at the Art Institute and a wine pairing dinner with some of his family members. I never saw him overindulge.

I returned the gifts I had bought for his family and bought myself a new bathrobe. I finally threw out the one I had been wearing for 23 years given to me on Christmas many years ago from a non-liar, non unhealthy relationship with alcohol ex-boyfriend.

Next year I am having a Griswald-like Christmas party complete with spiral ham to look at or to eat for anyone who has no place to go.

Merry Christmas