Happy Day

It's Christmas. For years, every time the subject of this day has surfaced, I have met it with nausea and a rolling of the eyes. I have hated Christmas for as long as I can remember. Let me clarify, I hate what the day has become. I hate the frenetic shopping/wrapping/greed mongering that takes place in the name of this holiday. I hate the fact that some people feel this day gives them license to be assholes of a variety they wouldn't dare to be any other time of year. I am not a Christian. I do not believe in Christ. I am not at all certain that there is a God. I hate the assumption that everyone here IS a Christian and DOES believe in God, and therefore celebrates this holiday above and instead of all others. I hate the fake happiness and insipid posturing of plastic people. I hate the bull shit. In fact, if I hear one more jackass say "Jesus is the reason for the season," I may have to punch them in the throat. I'll forward my cellblock and inmate number so y'all can write me love letters while I'm in the Pen.
But now I have kids. And I love what this holiday gives me the opportunity to do for them. Because of this day, I can give them traditions, and memories and fun like I never experienced as a kid, and I can make them better people. I realize that I don't need a special day to make memories or create traditions for them, but there is something magical about this day that lends itself to the memory making. My eldest is just now 4, just now old enough to remember, just now old enough to get excited about things to come because of the way things were done before. The excitement and energy and sheer joy in his eyes and squeaky little voice have been a constant source of entertainment and inspiration for the last week. Like every little kid in America, the land of excess and ease, he has been beside himself in anticipation of what Santa might bring, vibrating with the hope that he might get Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga for his Nintendo DS. But what has kept him up at night, what he has run through the house celebrating and anticipating and singing about, has been the arrival of his grandma, and his grandpa, and his aunt. His family. In celebrating this day, I have the opportunity to cement into the very fabric of his tiny little being that it is the people in life that matter. Not the gifts. Not the money. Not the bull shit. He seems to have gotten that message already, and I couldn't be happier or more proud. For him, and for his brother, I will celebrate this day and love every minute of it.


And for you, my friends, I will say thank you. I love and appreciate every, single one of you. Your presence and participation in my life enriches it in ways I cannot find words to express. No matter what this day means to you, I hope that it was spent in ways that make you happy. I hope the coming year brings you health, happiness, and success in ways you've never known. I love you bitches.