Not Much Like Christmas
Stephanie A Erickson

 

Another year, another tree
But this year you won’t be with me
But it don’t feel like Christmas


For me, this was the most ecstatic day of the year. I loved Christmas like no other holiday. It was such a rush for me to wake up on Christmas Day and be so ecstatic about that morning as I happily pranced around the house, with the bright grin on my face rubbing off on everyone else. Sometimes Mom called me “Benji the Pixie” cause I was just sprinkling my cheerfulness on everyone’s head with my smile. It was the time when my family spent this long day together, too busy to worry about any problems we had, or issues that needed to be taken care of. Christmas was blissful.

I remember my alarm clock reading 5:13 AM. The numbers taunted me as they slowly advanced to 14…15…16. I had been lying in bed for an hour, restless and wishing someone would just wake up so we could all go downstairs to open up our gifts. The slow moving intervals of glancing at the clock and at my twin brother sound asleep in his bed drove me insane. Every now and then I would sneak out of my bed, tip toe to his without causing a slight creak in the floor, and stand over him, hoping he’d crack open an eye or two.

Finally, it was 6:00 AM and I couldn’t hold it in any longer, so I couldn’t help myself but just softly nudge his warm shoulder, preparing for him to groan and complain about it being way too early to be up. Sure enough, he peeked out of that left eye of his, so deep brown just like mine, and looked at me. He cringed and threw his covers over his head and moaned at the early light penetrating into the window beside him. I know he had no excuse to be sleeping in on this day, and there was no way that I was going to let him pass by with one this time.

"C’mon, Joel, it’s Christmas morning! Aren’t you excited?" I lightly bounced up and down on my toes, shaking his body with my hands and hoping he’d give in and just slide his lazy self out of bed and come downstairs with me.

"Benj, it’s 6 in the morning," he mumbled under the thickness of sheets, blankets, and a comforter, "can’t you just wait until Mom and Dad wake up?"

I started getting too fidgety for my own control and I just had the urge to step up on his bed and jump up and down until he fell out of it and onto the hardwood floor beneath him.
 
"Are you insane? I’ve been up since 4! I can’t wait any longer!" I whined like a little child, although I was still only 14 or 15 at the time. Usually a kid like me wouldn’t be so enthralled with a holiday my parents could barely afford, and we may not get the best presents on the block, but it was just the spirit I had within me to have faith. It was the faith that no matter how much we can’t give to each other, everything’s going to be okay and we’re going to be happy.

But now I know that my faith should’ve been stronger. I’m 16 now, and now that I look back on that memory, I would have thought this year was going to be just as great as the last. We’d have an amazing dinner prepared by my mother, there’d be a beautiful tree in the living room decorated by my brother and me, the presents would be so colorful and intriguing, and Joel and I would stay up late fiddling with the new guitar that we had been hoping for. Unfortunately, this year was different. My faith blew up in my face, and my hopes were too close to the opened window on a windy day.

Sure, the tree was still there, but we didn’t gather to look up and down at the festive art of it all. Instead, it stood there by itself, hoping it was meant for something this year. Someone should just tear it down. It wasted our time to even decorate something that will just be put away the next weekend. I don’t think Dad liked it this year…

We used to watch the same old show
Sing Social D on the radio
But it don’t feel much like Christmas


Every year we’d sit down together and watch the same reruns of A Christmas Story and the special holiday episode of Saturday Night Live. I felt so tranquil laying down in front of the television set to know that if I turned my head, I knew that someone would be smiling. I knew that this was the same routine we had the last year, and the year before that, but I didn’t care, because I loved to see my mother laugh as her face lit up with joy. Now, her smile has disappeared behind her tears and there’s no way I can change that back.

I remember Joel and I would sit up in our room listening to the radio when Social Distortion, one of our favorite bands, would come on, and we’d give in and sing the words like we wrote them ourselves.

"Hey Benji, do you think Mom would get us some Social D for Christmas?" he would innocently ask, since we had to be cautious about what type of music we listened to around our mother. We knew she meant well with keeping us in strong faith with Christ by not letting us listen to any Punk or Rock, but it was always worth a try. Just for Christmas, and if not, we would follow according to what we always did---save up the extra money we earned working and go buy the album ourselves. But now, once I hear that song come on through my speakers, I instantly switch the dial to "off". It just wasn’t worth it…

This used to be my favorite holiday
My Christmas Eve was filled with dreams
But you chased them all away


It’s hard not to be negative at a time like this. I wonder sometimes if there was something I did wrong to make God punish me. Was the point of Dad leaving the only way to show me I’ve been bad? Was I being too greedy by saying that Christmas had always been my favorite holiday? No…I never have. It’s not about the presents anymore, it’s about having my whole family with me in one, carefree place. And now you, Dad, that one simple piece that kept us together, has been taken away from us, from me.

Why did you leave me for Christmas?
You left me lonely, it’s true
Could you have waited ‘till New Years?
At least the year would be through
And now the mistletoe’s hanging
For no reason at all
And all the presents are still wrapped
But you don’t even call


My mother keeps telling me that everything’s going to be okay. For once in my life, I can’t believe her. How could she bother to think something so beyond reality such as that? How can we be fine if we have no support for the bills, for the house, for food, for anything? We’ve lost everything. All because he left us, and for what reason?

Hell, he could’ve waited till we were finished opening the presents and thanking each other for gifts we obviously didn’t need, but deserved for such hard work and dedication. He could’ve waited until after he gave my mother a kiss under the mistletoe, even if he didn’t mean it. Now I wonder if it would even be worth it to have Christmas at all anymore. Breakfast hadn’t been touched, as well as all the presents under the tree. It’s not worth it anymore.

I took a walk to where we go
There were lights and there was snow
But it don’t feel much like Christmas
And people ask me how you’ve been
I fake a smile and say "okay"
But I don’t feel much like Christmas


On that one morning that sent my life fast downhill like a freshly waxed bobsled on an icy path towards the river, I couldn’t stand my home for once. I couldn’t stand everybody and their eyes’ direct attention to their feet, my heart wouldn’t stop bleeding from the sound of my mother sobbing by herself, and I most definitely couldn’t face the fact that everyone gave up on everything and decided to cancel the one holiday we all cherished so much. All for one person. I grabbed my winter jacket, slipped on my worn out Chucks, and ran out the door. I heard Joel call for me and ask me where I was heading, but even I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

When I was a kid, Dad would take my brother and me downtown to look at all the decorations set up in everyone’s front yard and at the stores. We would go at night so we could see all the blinking, multi-colored strings of lights hung over the side of the roofs and window panes. It would look beautiful when the snow was freshly fallen so that they’d create a color scheme shadow on the white blanket of the cold earth. I walked down there myself, just because it was the first place I thought of, and yet, I wasn’t too fond of trying to bring the good memories back when they’d make no difference at all. I slowly strolled up and down subdivisions thinking to myself, but thinking so deep that I ran into an old friend of my fathers.

He was a tall guy, about 6’ straight, bundled up in a flannel jacket, black gloves, and tan canvas boots. Although he looked like a tough shot professional hunter, he was nothing of the sort. He was rather light-hearted, always with a smile on his face and a glimmer in his eye. I had no mind talking to him because of that.

"Hey there, Benjamin, what are you doing out here on Christmas morning all by yourself?" he so pleasantly asked, not even assuming that there was anything wrong in the Madden family household. That couldn’t be possible, right?

"Um…I just wanted to get some fresh air."

"Oh I see…so hey, how’s your dad doing? Everything going okay?"

I just wanted to burst out of my skin and scream when he asked such that hideous question. But I kept it all within the core and let it slide. I’d been told I was such a courteous, good boy…

"Yeah…he’s okay…," I mumbled with my chin close to my chest and my eyes on my feet, kicking the snow in a pile before me. I looked up at his bright green eyes and his rosy cheeks and knew that if I didn’t make some sort of connection with my reply that he’d ramble on about everything not being okay after all, so I lifted my chin a bit higher and forced the most painful smile.

"Glad to hear. Hope to see you around, kiddo. Merry Christmas," he blurted out, ruffling my dark brown hair with his gloved hand, as if that would make me feel any better. I nodded and walked past him without a second glance behind my shoulder. If every day were to be like this, I’d have to say that there’s no possible way to survive. I had to contemplate something to make this go away, for all of us.

You used to be my favorite holiday
But now you’re gone, I’m all alone
And all that I can say…



I walked back in the front door to figure that the whole house was empty. There was not a person in sight, nor a sound in the air, too creepy for my liking. I called for my mom and Josh, but nobody answered. They must have gone out to get their minds off things. I walked down the hallway and up the stairs to look for Joel, and sure enough he was in our room. Positioned beside the window, head tilted slightly to the left to look out the corner at the backyard, he brought my world down. I hated to see my brother so depressed, but this time it was more than "I’m having a bad day," it was a cry for help.

I wanted to sit down and talk with him about things, but I knew today was not the day to do it. It just made me wonder how Joel and I are going to turn out. By just thinking that, it also made me wonder why I was assuming that Dad was never coming back. Of course he would, he couldn’t leave us. Especially my baby sister Sarah and my mother. He’d never do that, would he?

Waiting here alone
Christmas by the phone
Said I’m waiting here alone
Spending Christmas by the phone


All I concentrated on were the small holes in the receiver, the numbered buttons, and clock that hung on the wall above the kitchen sink. It read 5:13 PM. How ironic. Now I was angry because I knew that life was sticking its tongue out at me and pointing fingers in my direction, laughing behind my back. Dad would definitely come home for Mom’s dinner, I knew so.

The numbers read 14…15…16. I was growing tired of this routine. Waiting around for something to change, for something to make everything better. Joel was mocking me in his kitchen chair as he stared at me with a sheet of tears over his eyes and an aura of defeat. As for me, I was not going to give up.

"Joel, stop it, he’s going to come home. I know this," I told him so confidently, even though I was being too contradictory to myself because I knew I was in denial. Joel was never the stronger one, maybe because he wasn’t built up to deny things like I was. Maybe it’s because he knew the truth and I didn’t. I had to show my brother something though, I had to show him the brighter side to things---he needed hope, and I’d be the one to give it to him.

"Benj…he’s not…," he replied at the act of me looking at the clock obsessively. It was getting close to 6:00 PM now and I was ready to give up. The food was cold and my heart was broken. I looked at Joel and then at the phone. He was right. He wasn’t going to call.

That night I sat in bed with my back against the wall and my knees up to my chin and cried. I’m not supposed to cry, I’m supposed to be the kid who gets in fights, spends his afternoon in detention hall, and comes home with a black eye. I’m sure I sound pretty selfish in this situation, but I am so scared of what I’ll become when I grow up. Will I leave Joel? Will I forget about my family and my mother? I can’t stand to think of the possibilities and consequences that will become a burden to me.

Joel walked in and noticed me, and knowing us, we take care of each other like twin brothers should. He sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder and told me that we’d make it through. Of all the people I could never let down, he’d be the first one on the list. I know that I couldn’t leave him because if I did, he’d have nobody left to tell him right and wrong, or no one to keep his faith and hope strong.

Now I wish Dad could see us. Maybe then he’d change his mind and come back home. But no matter what, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. It never will.
~

 

 

Copyright © 2003 Stephanie A Erickson
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"