A holiday classic, A Christmas Story, reminds me of how my family and I celebrated Christmas, except for the pink bunny suit that poor Ralphie had to put on that morning. Well, and the dogs getting the turkey. Christmas growing up was always an anxious time for me, mostly because I never knew from one year to the next where we would be living, or if Santa would stop at our house. They were thin times, but my dad always managed somehow to get us something for Christmas.
So what does Christmas mean to me? It's not about the presents, though most think it is. Christmas to me is being with friends and family, giving, not taking. My last few Christmas' have been different, especially since I've been single. When I was married and had my kids and grandchildren, it was a special time. Watching them tear off the wrapping paper and the look in their eyes once the gift was unwrapped. Seeing the joy in their eyes gave me joy too. I miss that. But just because I no longer have that in my life doesn't mean I can't enjoy Christmas. I still have friends and family, and most importantly, I still have my health.
A Merry Christmas to you and yours, and wishing you a joyous New Year.