Try as the world might, Christmas has always had a special place in my heart. I’m not religious in the conventional sense, but Jesus Christ and his teaching inspired me; they shaped my life in a positive way.

(Picture above, Maria and Robin)

My parents were Jewish, the children of immigrants from Poland and Ukraine. I think the celebration of Christmas – is more common than you might think for Jews eager to assimilate in an often hostile and strange country.

But it became something else for us. It mushroomed into a desperate effort by two depressed people to give their miserable and wounded children a day full of gifts and surprises.

I had to swear to keep this a secret from my grandmother, who would have been horrified to learn we were celebrating Christmas. She never found out. At least she didn’t live to see me marry a gentile.

Christians were nothing but dangerous and hostile to her; they had never done anything good for the Jews, and much that was awful.

My sister and I  started collecting presents months ahead of December, and on Christmas, my parents united and stopped fighting for one morning a year. We always had a tree, and when we got up in the morning, the presents – trinkets, candy, all kinds of small things – had all been wrapped and stacked under the tree.

Christmas was the only day of the year I looked forward to, and the day after brought a great crash and burst of depression. I did ask my parents once if we could have Christmas more often – it was the only time they didn’t seem to hate each other – but they just laughed.

The pile was taller than I did. Christmas was a rare reprieve from anger and hurt for my family. The family as I knew it no longer even exists. My parents are long dead, and I haven’t spoken to my brother in many years; I call her every month or so, and we talk in a guarded and limited way. But we no longer share the Christmas spirit. I pray for my family this week; they could never work it all out.

They had come too far and lost too much.

 

(Sue Silverstein, the best friend any friend could  be.)

She and I fought for each other all of our your lives, and that bond still sticks. But it’s different. My sister no longer calls me and has no idea what is happening in my life. She does not seem to care,  she has created her own family, and I do not expect to see her again in this life.

There is no original family anymore. They have ceased to exist. I have a daughter, a granddaughter, and a wife whom I love very much. And am happier in my life than I have ever been.

(Therapy dog,  Bishop Maginn High School, now shut down.)

This year, my gift is to approach the fulfillment of life, to do what I was meant to do and love to do. That’s the most precious gift next to Maria that I have ever received.

I have a new family around, and on top of that, so does Maria; it is warm, loving, and supportive. A miracle for me, and I think, for her.

I see every Christmas as meaningful, thoughtful, caring, and joyous.

I’m planning a quiet week. I have to see the podiatric surgeon tomorrow, get a one-hour Ukelele lesson on Tuesday and have lunch with  Bob Warren, my music teacher, on Friday. He’s determined to get me ready for Christmas at the Mansion. I hope to play Silent Night.

 

Otherwise, a quiet week. I’ve got three books lined up (I’ll share them tomorrow) and plan to read them all before Saturday.

My head cold from last week returned with a vengeance last night; this time, I will get some rest.

This year, we’re s staying home for Christmas. The day after, we’re going to Vermont to stay in the Inn, where we had our honeymoon for one night. Then, back to life. New Year’s is not a meaningful holiday for us.

This week, I’ve decided to publish Christmas cards – photos I have taken all year with special meaning. The Christmas cards are also for you, all you good people who have put up with me all these years. And they are meant for me.

I’ll post my Christmas cards every day this week. They reflect what Christmas means to me.

 

Tina, Amish Dog, and my pal.