I don’t like Christmas. Never did. And I never will. It’s a horrible time of year for me. And yet each time the holiday season approaches I try to give it just one more try. I was really hoping that this year was going to be different. As I hoped all the other years were going to be different. But it’s just the same old, same old.
I used to run away every December. But my husband would make a fuss and put his foot down and demand that I remain in town, at least for the grandchildren’s sake. So, as usual, as I do every year, I sent an email to both my daughters and asked to send me a list of what the grand babies need or want this year. My older daughter asked what the budget was. I replied, as I always have: $25.
And that’s as far as this story will go as it being the good part. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is going to be yet another rant, written by me, on the unfairness of how I am treated by my two “wonderful” daughters. I’m sure you are sick of it. Trust me, I’m more sick of it than you are. I’m sick. And I’m tired of it all.
So, the banter follows like this:
“But I spent $30 on your birthday present (which I haven’t gotten yet and my birthday was in November) and I’m contributing $30 to Nick’s iWatch, so why can’t you spend $60 on #1 granddaughter’s gift?”
And then it starts.
The ‘back-and-forth’ deluge of instant messages and texts touting “I spent this” and “I spent that” and do you know how much money it cost to serve you all up a Thanksgiving dinner, plus a breakfast and lunch? begins. Till eventually, I say ‘enough’ and cancel all plans and get-togethers with the lot of them because at this point in my life I don’t give a shit.
I have other important things to concern myself about this year.
My husband is finally going to have medical tests run to calculate how his two aneurysms are increasing in size come this December 23. If they have increased substantially, he may be required to have immediate open heart surgery. If not, then the surgery may be prescribed for later on in the year. Or, God willing, not at all for this year. The last time he had undergone these medical exams was two years ago. Because of the radiation, the human body can’t tolerate too much exposure. So they space the medical tests out every other year. I will tell you it is a horror living knowing that you have an two aneurysms (aorta and celiac) which can burst at any time. Once they do, survival rate is near impossible.
So, realistically, do you really think I want to involve myself with the childish, selfish bantering of my two ungrateful daughters? I asked the both of them if Nick has open heart surgery, which one of them was coming to help me take care of him? The answer was neither one of them. When I told them the value of Nick wearing the new Series 5 iWatch, which monitors the human heart and alerts his cardiologist if something is amiss, could they help me buy one for Nick, for Christmas? Only my youngest could cough up $30 towards a $400 iWatch. Needless to say, both my daughters earn over $125,000 a year. Nick and I live on under $30,000 a year. And we’re in our 60s. What help can I expect from either one of them when we are in our 80s or 90s?
Am I being stupid or non-sensical? Why must I feel guilty all of the time? Is it really my fault that my daughters turned out so callous and uncaring? What have I missed all this time? Why can’t I be the mother who has those great children who take care of her and buys her diamonds and jewels and fully paid vacations to The Bahamas? I see families like that all the time on Facebook?
Needless to say, I’ve been very depressed lately. I don’t feel like doing much of anything. Nor do I feel like writing my blog. I have nothing to say. Nor do I want to talk. I just want to keep praying and asking God for either a miracle or just to let this year slide by so Nick and I can have one last very good year together. Can’t he have his open heart surgery next year? No matter how you slice it, he will eventually have to get the surgery. I just want it to be later rather than sooner.
I apologize to you my dear readers that I haven’t written anything positive. I’m not concerned about retirement or money or being frugal or cooking or baking or anything. I’m not feeling very Christmassy nor have I put up any decorations. I just want December 23rd to be over and done and I want to know the results of my husband’s tests.
That’s all I want for Christmas, this year.