Christmas Memories
Why have I decided to write on such a burden of a day. The eve of all eves. Christmas. If anyone really knew me they would know my disgust with this infernal holiday. I hate it with a passion. I hate the whole net year must top this year. All of the college funds spent for the sheer shopping for the perfet gift. Why can we not just enjoy the time with our family and have just a bit of passion and love for those we cherish. It has become a pit of despair to me and my life. But here I am. Letting a little piece of me out to the free world and those who may listen. So I let these pieces out for those who asked to be let in a little bit more. A present of sorts.
I do not have very fond memories fo Christmas. Most I do not remember at all. The first memory is a scar. It seemed like it would be a grand day. A go cart for my sister and I with a huge field to race within. A flurry of rainy specks tickled our cheeks as our eyes and smiles seemed to brighten the gloomy Christmas day. A pull of the starter and away we went for half a lap and we became stuck in the mud from the night before. Oh the fury of my makers hand was not gentle that night. A beating for being the stupid son who did not listen.
The second I will always remember. My son, almost two then, my girlfriend of on again off again, and my own place made to my own desire and design. My girlfriend and I stayed up until 2 am assembling a train table and the entire track for a mere ten minutes of enjoument from my son. It was honestly worth it just to see his beautiful smile and the chant of "OOOWEEEE" after he had awaken to see what "Santa" had brought him. A memorable one indeed.
The third, and sadly final memory, I lived in an apartment. My roomate at the time was able to capture my heart. My son had been sick with pnuemonia earlier in the year. She was a CMA at local physician center. She had taken a picture of he and I while trying to get him calmed down for a chest X-ray. She had it printed and framed as a gift. I cried. I had forgotten she had even taken it. It wa sthe first picture I had gotten or taken with my son and I in the same frame. He was 4 at the time. 4 years of no one asking me to pose with him…4 years of why no one really gave a shit about me….4 years of them and myself patiently hoping I would just fade away. I am still with my son.
Tonight, I try to capture another memory. One I hope will last forever. Hopefully….I did well. If not, I give up. Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Bah Humbug and all of that. Blessed Be.