Over the years, having moved as frequently as I did, Christmas was always something totally different. For those first years my mother was married to a Jehova’s Witness, so Christmas didn’t exist. By the time I got into Kindergarten we were celebrating, but we were poor, so Christmas meant weird jello from a cart at the soup kitchen, and picking up our “angel tree” gifts from Walmart. I don’t remember ever thinking about anything I wanted for Christmas during that time. I didn’t know that wanting things was an option.
Then there were the years of laying in bed on my belly, feet kicked up behind me and a marker with it’s cap all chewed poised in my hand and I turned the pages of the massive Sears catalog. I would limit myself to five things, thinking that if I circled more than five, I would be punished by karma for being a greedy pig, so I spent hours making small dots next to the things that I wanted, slowly reviewing and determining what I wanted the most. I remember that I got one of the things on my list one year, a Cabbage Patch Preemie doll, but most of all I had wanted…
Glamour!
When I was nine I went into foster care right before Christmas. In the abruptness of the move, I no longer had my clothes, my books, or my favorite tapes to listen to. So I had learned that it was best to want something small enough that I could keep it close to me. That year, what I really wanted was…
Avon Faux Pearl Necklace
But then I got older, and moved more, eventually ending up in Edgar County Children’s Home, where we could make lists of the things we wanted so long as they were able to be purchased at K-Mart. Used to using Suave hair care products before they were doing knock-offs of the good stuff, the number one item on my list was…
Pantene Pro-V Conditioner
A few Christmases later I was still at The Home, and I seriously liked this guy, Patrick, and each day I would rush home after school to call him. We had a payphone in the hallway at the home, and it took nickels. I would call him, and each ten minutes I would need to deposit another five cents. So, that year, I only put one item on my list. It was…
Nickels! And Lots Of Them
I never got the Nickles, by the way. I do remember getting a framed picture of Marilyn Monroe with a note on the back telling me that I should try to have a less tragic life than she had. But a few years and a few homes later, I was living in a Jewish foster home. So, I got to experience Hanukkah. And that year, I remember that the gift I wanted most of all was…
Red Doc Martens!
As an adult, I’ve had a mixed bag of years, from many years of people pulling together to make sure the kids and I had a great Christmas, to the years of getting iMacs and ceramic knives, to years of being happiest to get phone calls, pajamas, and socks.
And this year came on me quickly, barely noticed because the seasons don’t change all that much here in LA. Life is good, and for the most part I’m content with the things I do and don’t have. I’m no longer at a place where I feel guilty wanting things, but I’m not crying in my Christmas oatmeal because I didn’t get them.
But there is one thing I really want this year, and it’s a really big thing to want. This year, the thing I want more than anything is to be able to express to every person I’ve ever had in my life, however briefly, is that I’m thinking of you. I love you. And you have all made this season mean more to me than I can express. I am so fortunate that I had the life I had, because where there isn’t tradition, there is a culmination of rich memories, making it possible to move forward knowing that there were so many people who gave me their time, and shared their Holidays with me.
Merry Christmas, everyone. If I forgot to tell you this, I love you.
