No time for Sat-9. I have put off wrapping, Finishing the tree. Here’s my excuse: I have not done this alone since 2009. That’s a while, no? Before our estrangement, my daughter Julie wrapped my gifts. She bought me a desktop tree. Every year she added to it. Lights. Bulbs, etc. There is no one on this planet that I’d like rather fix things together. But since the start she has never told me one thing: Why? Honest to god I have no idea what the hell this all was about.
My three other kids I have tight loving relationships with. The five grandkids from those children are my joy. I have never met my three grandkids from Jules & her husband James. . Please don’t tell me I am ending sentences with prepositions. I know – my bad. All I came here to explain that I was skipping the memes this weekend. But can’t I have just one Christmas wish. Every year. Maybe next year?
Every Saturday since the divorce I took her to breakfast. No one else, just her. It was to continue to have “our 
time”. Every Sunday she & my sons watched & played football. After I met my second wife, we’d have them every other weekend. One year her mother got mad at me. So no Julie. It was Father’s Day weekend.She put on such her mother & stepfather had to drive her up for it. Her stepfather plays a role here. But I’ve always like him. Perhaps nothing at all.
It’s an open wound that really gets to me this month. Every year. I write her. I’ve emailed her. I’ve begged. I have sent gifts to her first child’s Christmas. The were not acknowledged. We were so close as she grew up. She now has her PHD. It’s in psychology. Physician heal thyself? Nah. I’m so proud of her. endure this to have her happy, I will take it. It’s been 18 years. Half her life ago. I’d rather she’d be happy. And if I have to go through this to do that, I will go on. I will turn 70 in 2021. Not all that many chances to fix it for a Christmas.
It’s not her (or my) fault alone. When my two oldest wanted to disown her I came to their mother’s side. “She’s your only mother.” Did she do the same? I’m guessing not. She was a great mother. I think she might enjoy it. She gets everyone to see her at Xmas. Five more than I do. Every year.
I appoligized for dumping all this on you. Whoever you are. This blog doesn’t get comments except for 
the memes. That’s fine. I did not write this for attention. It’s my therapy, so to speak. Julie’s the therapist. I could ask you to help. But what would prove? My blog buddies like me? I have had my friends since 1967. They would not have stayed with me if I wasn’t worthy of it. I could go on, but enough self indulgence. More than enough.
At least Jill Hennessy writes me every Christmas. The French twins are knocking! Gotta go! I suspect I will here from The Queen as well. Have yourself a merry little weekend. We will be here, next week. Promise. Same time. Same blog.
The holidays are hard. My family is not exactly Norman Rockwell, either. I don’t like my sisters and they don’t like me. It’s difficult to hear songs about the glory of being with family around the tree when you know it’s not going to happen. Or if it does, you’re sure it will be more like a gathering of the Mansons than the Waltons.
Similarly, my aunt and my cousin have not spoken more than perfunctorily in more than four years. Like you, she has no idea what went wrong. I know, but I’m staying out of this one. I have my own internecine battles to fight. (See above.)
Which is all my long-winded way of saying I get this post and I get you. My advice to you about Christmas comes from Col. Sherman Potter of the 4077th. When the troops complained about being so far away from their loved ones over Christmas, he told them, “If you’re not where you are, you’re no place.” That’s what I keep telling myself this year, when I’m housebound and alone on the Big Day. I’m going to try to make the day special with Zoom and movies and prayer. And faith that 2021 will be better.
You’re a good guy, Bud. I know it in my heart. Hang in there.
You are very kind and wise. Thank you…
This holiday looks so different. I have yet to decide if I’ll spend it with my family. And I haven’t wrapped anything. I’m so behind the 8-ball on this. Anyhow–sending you much holiday cheer!
My problem is not only time, but I have yet more back problems. My 13th surgery could becoming…