Today is the first 24th I’ve felt Christmas. Every year I get so plastered by noon that I’m in desperate need of a nap. Some sleepy time and yams always brings me back to life, and I get up and drink bloody maria’s until dinner time and then pass out again. Last Christmas Eve was tough, I spent it with my brother and we drank a bit and hung out, worried about my mother.
This Christmas Eve feels real. Not that the last Christmas Eve wasn’t real, but I look back and it doesn’t feel like me. I know it was, I know I was somewhere in that shell of a woman, but I feel full this day, I feel present enough to enjoy the moment. At this moment, I’m sitting in my father’s living room watching some Ben Stiller movie, next to my brother, as my father plays on the internet and my sister rummages in the fridge. We kids are going shopping, a little last minute, and later today we will go find a tree, cut the fucker down, and drag it back into the house for decoration and tidings of joy.
It wasn’t that my dad wasn’t there for me in my youth. It’s that I refused to let him in. I sent back Christmas cards, birthday presents, I sent back every effort he made to be part of my life. Today I’m sitting with him, I don’t need a card or a present. Sitting here in his home, in his favorite chair, is a gift. It doesn’t matter what we do today, it doesn’t matter what we say or what’s been said for that matter. It just matters that we are here, together, living a new way of life and moving forward.
I had a dream last night that I moved to San Francisco, I had this amazing house right on the edge of a cliff and when I walked out of it I ran into all my old friends from the bay. My neighbor told me if I intended upon having loud drinking parties they must be cut by midnight, and I told her I’m in the program and she doesn’t have to worry about that. An old friend told me I’d become involved with Too Short and we’d run some scam on another girlfriend of mine named Ashely (this person doesn’t exist to my knowledge…). I woke up thinking I’d moved to SF and when I realized I hadn’t, started thinking perhaps I should. The feeling has faded now I’ve been awake for awhile, showered, fueled myself with coffee. That initial moment, the desire to flee, grows dull as I think it through. I could run away to SF, move into a lovely apartment, run into old people I know and continue my program, or I can stay right where I am, continue moving forward, living this life I’ve started to thoroughly enjoy.
I like where I am today. I’m grateful for where I am today. I’m grateful for the people that surround me today. Today, on this day that historically holds so much sadness and loneliness, I am glad to rewrite history, one beautiful moment at a time.