have yourself a merry covid christmas

My wife still has symptoms, but is feeling a little better than earlier in the week. She has the bedroom, bathroom, and the craft room to herself, but the rest of the house is off limits. Today is Day 6 of her isolation, and she is going stir crazy. She has a hard time sitting still and not working on something (just like her dad). The strategy is working though; neither Nicole or I seem to be getting sick. I suppose I could be asymptomatic and not know it, but I don’t think so. Either way, we are both getting tested, but we couldn’t get tests until Tuesday the 28th (which would be day 10 of isolation for Annie).

Since Uncle Covid came for Christmas, we obviously had to cancel dinner with our son and Annie’s parents. I’m still going to make dinner for the three of us, with a turkey and only a couple of sides. We are planning a video call with Dan, and maybe the in-laws (if they can figure it out). I don’t know if we are doing presents tomorrow or waiting. Annie is going to sanitize and wrap presents, so maybe Nicole will get her presents on time. I don’t really care, I’ve kinda lost the spirit of the whole thing. I just want Annie to rejoin us.

We are very aware that our current situation is fortunate in comparison to those who are in the hospital either fighting the illness or dying from it. There are people losing loved ones today, and tomorrow, and every other day. There are exhausted and shell-shocked health care workers who keep coming to work because they’ve dedicated themselves to helping sick people. I admit that as inconvenient as this week has been, it could be so much worse.

I hope your Christmases are safe, warm, and well-medicated.

scrooged by covid

I had just written a post about how I used to love Christmas, then I hated it, then I loved it again, and now we have a mutual understanding, and how my wife loves Christmas much more than I do.

Then came an unfortunate plot twist.

Christmas is canceled due to Covid. My wife caught it from someone who came to her work while sick. We are all vaccinated btw. Now she is quarantined in our bedroom for another week at least, and I’m sleeping on the couch. Needless to say, this puts a damper on the holiday spirit. I’m sure she’ll be okay, but she has felt pretty poor yesterday and today. She’s pretty healthy, so I’m not too worried about her recovery, but I’m a little concerned if I or my daughter gets infected. We both have multiple risk factors. No symptoms yet, and we’re being careful, and I got a booster a month ago, but it could still happen.

Kind thoughts, please.

saving christmas

Everyone seems more sentimental or reflective during the holidays. Many people have warm, fuzzy memories of Christmases full of snow and fun and family time. Of course too many people have bad memories, or just sadness; maybe that just proves that most families are more messed up than people want to admit. I’ve always thought it is strange to put such an emphasis on family and giving and feasting during this time, when the rest of the year should be equally important.

I’ve always had mixed emotions during this season. When I was little, my Christmases seemed pretty good. I got lots of presents, not knowing or caring at the time how much of a financial strain it was for A-Mom. As I got older and realized how much she sacrificed to save up the money to buy me things, it became a lot less fun. That, and the Old Bitch screaming insults and telling us how everything we did was shit, and dodging the 20-year-old stacks of newspapers that couldn’t be moved or thrown away.

The biggest thing missing for me was the fact I had no brothers or sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins, and especially a father to share Christmas with. All we had was our dysfunctional fighting unit: me, A-Mom, and the Old Bitch (no one wanted her, especially her family). Later on when “the foster kid” lived with us, it brought jealousy and competition to the holiday. I wanted to have a house filled with warmth and love and lots of family, not bitterness and hate and anxiety.

My best friend saved Christmas for me when I was 16. Lisa invited me to come over to her house on Christmas Eve, and A-Mom let me go (because she liked Lisa too). It was like something out of a dream for me: a warm fire, lots of family in the house, music, games, happiness, love, no anger or yelling or fighting. They made me feel like part of their family for the evening.

I was almost overwhelmed, and a little emotional. Lisa took me to her room to talk about it, and I tried to explain how it was just what I had wanted for so long, and it all seemed so perfect. “Perfect,” she laughed, “you think this is perfect?” She told me both grandparents and her mom were already drunk off their ass as usual, her dad had broken something in anger in the garage, and her brother was pissed off at dad and spending the night at someone else’s house. I didn’t care, I said, and it was true.

[recycled from 2011, but refreshed and edited for your pleasure]