What Does Christmas Mean


It’s not a hard question.

I grew up in a Catholic family.

Christ was born on Christmas Day.

Hence: Christ + Mass = Big Day


Now I skip the Mass bit,

So I am left with Christ.

I am unsure of my beliefs, so I’m left with turkey.


Turkey, ham, potatoes, vegetables, too much alcohol.

Too much expectation,

Too little appreciation.

Another helping of apple sauce.


I am thankful for the effort my extended family make in hosting The Day.

I’m wondrous at the children’s wonder and who needs Jesus when you have Santa?

All the better they have both I guess.

I handled my fatigue symptoms by taking my lovely aunt’s offer of lying down upstairs (I usually just go home when I feel the flop coming).

I handled my depression symptoms by bailing out before my stomach became too full of food and wine and reasons to break down.

Christmas means very little to me now, but meant a great deal fifteen or so years ago.  So, things change.  So, they will again.

So, merry christmas, and if you cried or laughed or stayed in bed, I wish you a final hour of christmassy-ness.

Over and out!


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