I couldn't let the day pass without posting a happy birthday wish to everybody's favorite nurse, Erika Bonham. Today she turns 26 years old, I think. I guess that means that she was 18 when I met her...that's kind of strange that I've known her that long. So, feel free to pop on over to her blog and wish her a happy birthday...or you can just leave her a comment here and I'm sure she'll see it.

Well, it's less than a week until Christmas and, I must admit, it feels nothing like Christmas at all. For the second year in a row, I have not been to the mall to purchase Christmas presents for anybody. I will most likely go pick something up for my niece and nephew, but beyond that I haven't much money to spare.

Not that the giving of presents is necessarily the most important thing about this holiday. There are other reasons why it doesn't quite feel like Christmas. First and foremost, I think, is the fact that this is the first Christmas in my life that will not be spent with my parents. Or at least with my mom. My dad has been gone at Christmas before...off on deployment or something like that. But, for 27 Christmases before this one, my mom has been there.

I'm not sure what it is, but I honestly can't remember the last time a Christmas FELT like a Christmas to me. Definitely not since I've been living here in Los Angeles. It's not the weather, mind you. Considering that nearly every Christmas in my entire life has been spent either in Hawaii or California (with the exception of three I spent in North Carolina) the season has never been associated with cold weather in my mind.

I'm not sure that Christmas in my family was ever the big celebration that it is in other families. At least not as Erich and I got older. Some years, my mother had to bribe us to help her decorate the tree. Year after year, tradition after tradition got pushed to the side. I think the first one to go was my dad's annual recitation of "A Visit from Saint Nicholas". My dad has it memorized from beginning to end and each year he attempts to recite it. And, of course, each year he is cut off by someone telling him to be quiet.

The second tradition to go was probably the attending of Christmas Eve services as a family. As we got older, we began to attend separate churches from our parents, and each of us went to our own service at our own church. Sometimes I think that this is the tradition that I miss the most. Last year on Christmas Eve I went to Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa with Erich and Jaime...but it just wasn't the same as having the whole family there at Community Baptist in Fallbrook. Sitting there during the service, listening to my mom sing the hymns in her extremely off key voice. Having my dad smack the back of my head because I'm attempting to pour wax on my hands or on Erich's legs. Drinking eggnog or hot chocolate in the church foyer, bragging with the other kids about how big our biggest presents are.

My parents were, to be honest, never the best at giving gifts. Not that the gifts weren't appreciated...The thing is that, unless she was given specific instructions about what to buy, my mom had an annoying habit of getting us the most generic or cheapest version of whatever we asked for. Now, of course, I realize that this was a function of money and them not always having much (particularly in the late 80s) but, as any kid in that era knew, Go-Bots were simply not acceptable alternatives to Transformers. So, I always made a point of telling them exactly which Transformers I needed to round out my collection.

They never bought me a Nintendo either. Year after year, I would ask for one only to be told that I already had a computer and should be happy with that. Yes, because the awesome computing power of the Commodore 64 far outweighed the fun that could be had playing Super Mario Brothers or Double Dragon. So, instead, I had to resort to befriending the fat kid down the street whose parents bought him whatever he wanted.

One tradition that lasted until last year (stopping only because they relocated to Hawaii) was the one where I try to find the presents before Christmas. Some might say that it ruins the surprise but, in my mind, the challenge of finding the presents is much more fun than being surprised on Christmas morning. Most years, I managed to find them, as my mother was never very good at hiding them. But, the older I got, the better the hiding places became. In fact in 1998, my last Christmas living at home, I was completely unable to locate them.

I'll be going to my brother's house in the police state of Irvine this year...he and Jaime and Alyson and Sawyer will all be there. I imagine that once I go down there it will start to feel a little bit like Christmas. But...I think that it's just a natural part of these awkward years in your late twenties when you've moved away from where you grew up and haven't yet quite figured out where you are going and don't yet have a family of your own to start your own traditions. You have to rely on the pleasant memories of Christmas Past...and hope that Christmas Future will be a little friendlier to you than he was to Mr. Scrooge.