Christmas 1984. I was a poor university student working my way through, had missed the previous Christmas because I had been in Taiwan for a year, my parents had seperated and then divorced a few years earlier, so recent Christmas’ had pretty well sucked. That year abroad my father remarried and of course I missed it being there was no way I could afford to fly back for a wedding - hell in the pre internet days I couldn’t even afford an international phone call. So, had the first Christmas with my father, step mother, and 3 step kids around my age. One step kid was recently divorced and scrapping by, the other 2 went to college in S Diego and *felt *poor but from my POV were pretty well off and got lots of support from both parents. Did I mention I got zero support from my parents?
Anyhoo, I scrapped and skimped and got presents for everyone. Inexpensive presents but stuff that someone would actually want (as in not a gag present).
My step siblings really went all out and bought me a 6single pack of Michelob as a group present (not even a microbrew like Anchor Steam but I guess it could have been Blatt’s instead). My father and step mother gave me 1-2 presents like a sweater and some other crappy thing. I sat through hours of everyone taking turns opening up a big haul of presents. And I mean a pretty decent haul and clearly outspent my miserly presents by at least 20x. They weren’t malicious just fucking clueless.
I hauled ass as soon as I could toward the end of the Christmas lunch feast. Never ever even dreamed of taking part in Christmas with those people ever again.
In September 2009, my wife and I had arranged a nice little getaway over Christmas and New Years. Just the two of us, a nice little B&B in a city we both enjoyed visiting. Reservations were made, flights were booked.
Then in late November, she changed her mind, announced she’d be leaving me for good at some point in the New Year, and had cancelled our reservations at the B&B. She had decided to go spend Christmas and New Years without me in Ontario. Why? Because–and this was her next bombshell–that’s where her new boyfriend was. So, sadly, I cancelled my own flights and informed the office that I’d be available to work instead of away on a vacation.
She left for Ontario on December 23rd. I was at work that day, and the 24th, which helped keep my mind off the situation. But then came the 25th. I got up. put on the coffee, and opened a few cards from friends and family. I called my sister and my Dad, both in other cities. After all that, what to do next? Maybe a movie? Nope, both cinemas in this little city were closed. The casino? It never closes–except, I found out, only on Christmas Day. Same for everything else in town, it seemed. The only thing open was the Denny’s attached to a hotel, and it was only serving a limited menu and was only open until late afternoon. So that’s where I had my Christmas dinner of pancakes at three o’clock in the afternoon.
After that, it was back home to the TV. Whoopie. I was never so glad for the holidays to be over.
This is funny when I look back at it from 30 years, but in 1980 I was 16 and my mum died on December 5th. (Dad was already dead) Then I discovered she already had bought EVERYONE Christmas presents but me. Then on top of it the bill on her charge card came for it and I had to pay for them.
(Yes, I know I didn’t have to pay but I wanted to keep my mother’s credit card so I just paid the bill and used it on and off till I was old enough to get my own)
I was like what the heck!!!. You buy everyone but me Christmas gifts, then DIE and I get stuck with the bill???
As I said, it’s pretty funny actually looking back at it, as it was 30 years ago.
Christmas 2007. My brother is dating his future wife and they are getting very serious at this point. A week before Christmas, her father gets sick and they find out he has an inoperable brain tumour. Brother spent the holidays with her family, so I don’t know exact details, but I’m pretty sure it was a bittersweet holiday. He didn’t make it to the next one.
Christmas 2005. Got food poisoning a couple of days before Christmas, was miserable through the holiday. Then I got what I thought was a horrible cold and had to miss New Years with my friends, when it’s hard enough for us all to get together for one day. I find out it’s strep and fight it for about 2 months.
My dad died on Thanksgiving Day, 1973, Just as we sat down to dinner the hospital called… He had lung cancer and we visited him that morning and went home to attempt to have some kind of holiday.
One Christmas Eve, my grandma had a heart attack. She survived that one, but it was a bummer of a Christmas.
A couple of years later, my grandpa had a stroke on Christmas Eve. Survived, but still not a fun holiday.
My dad died on Memorial Day, which isn’t such a big deal of a holiday, but it still puts a pall on the whole weekend even after all these years.
One year, I hit the trifecta, though. My then-husband threw a surprise party for my birthday, in the middle of which he told me he wanted a divorce. (Surprise!) He then filed for divorce on Valentine’s Day. And I moved out on Easter.
(My mother did the same thing to my father! She announced the separation on Thanksgiving, asked for the divorce on Christmas, told us kids on New Year’s Eve, and then served my dad the papers on Valentine’s Day. And then she claimed – and still does to this day – that it was all a coincidence. Bull. Shit.)
Spoons wins the thread, but I’ll share my own misery.
In November, 1994, my older son, who had been suffering from meningitis contracted during delivery, went into a coma. My ex and I had to make the decision whether to keep him alive on a respirator or let him go. We decided to keep him alive at least over the Thanksgiving weekend. My parents and grandmother came to be with us, so we all had Thanksgiving dinner at some buffet. We turned off the life support a few days later and the baby went peacefully. It’s only been fairly recently that I’ve been able to have anything close to a “good” Thanksgiving. In fact, I deliberately scheduled gallbladder surgery for the day before Thanksgiving, as I had a five-day weekend anyway and wasn’t going to do anything for Thanksgiving.
One Christmas Eve when I was around 9 or 10, we all went to bed to await Santa’s arrival, my mom and dad, my two sisters and I. Christmas morning my dad was not there. Gone. No one said a word at the time but it was a subdued Christmas. I confirmed years later what I suspected: my parents had gotten into a fight after we went to bed and my dad stormed off to spend Christmas with his girlfriend (which was probably why he picked a fight in the first place.)
Yeah, that’s exactly how I felt about it. I think this year, I’m going to travel to my sister’s place. We have our differences, but we can probably put them aside for a day or two. Besides, her kids are fun, and her Christmas dinner certainly won’t be pancakes in mid-afternoon.
But man! I’ll agree, Christmas 2009 was definitely a “virtual kick in the nuts.” Good way to describe it; thanks.
No, MsRobyn, I think that with this story, you win the thread. I am sorry for your loss, but I am pleased to hear that you can once again have “good” Thanksgivings. I hope you have a good one this year.
On Christmas Day 1975 my Dad died from complications of Cancer ( and undiagnosed Muscular Dystrophy, which my four brothers have inherited and three have died from at 45, 45 and 50. The last is in a nursing home and he is only 50.)
My first Christmas away from home. San Francisco, 1996, 3000 miles away from Trenton. Believe it or not, I had a girlfriend - she brought me food at work on Thanksgiving, but there was some reason we couldn’t be together on Xmas - I think she was out of town and I had to work. I was living in a $90 per week scumbag roach motel. I had the wino special at the Section 8 Cafeteria ( don’t remember the real name - it’s a cafeteria at 18th and Mission). Turkey, potatoes, and stuffing. A filling meal, like $5.00. Surrounded by homeless and drunks.
Could have been much, much worse, reading this thread.
Shirley Ujest - I knew your brothers had MD, but I didn’t know about your dad. I had no idea that muscular dystrophy could go undected for years. Is it a different variety than the Jerry Lewis telethon usually shows?
Me, I don’t have stories to tell. I never looked forward to holidays, and still don’t. If they don’t suck, I’m happy. I have holidays of my own that I look forward to, like certain seasons or festivals or even (yard) sales. Those seldom disappoint.
