Christmas Eve

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Christmas Eve was always special for me as a kid. Family would show up and we would have a traditional Polish “Poor Man’s Meal.” Basically it was a very dry fish (sole I believe) served with pierogis and lots of sausage and kraut. Who was I kidding. I was and only child and I just wanted everyone to eat their shitty food so we could go upstairs and open up the damn presents. Things changed forever on that cold and blustery Christmas Eve in 1985.

This was my first Christmas Eve away from home and my family. I got into radio in the summer of 1985 and that changed the way I would celebrate the holidays. More often than not I was away from family. Christmas Eve 1985 found me in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I was two hundred and eighty-five miles away from my childhood home in Strongsville, Ohio. There was a terrible snowstorm that day and I was very sick. I had a fever and was alone for the first time on Christmas Eve. I called my mother to wish her well on the dinner and celebration she was about to have.

I got my first dog when I was in second grade. She was a collie. I named her “Lady.” Lady was my companion from the second grade on. Being an only child Lady was the closest thing to a sibling I would ever have. I was on the phone with mother that Christmas Eve when I heard the doorbell ring in the background. Mom explained she had to go as company was beginning to arrive. Something was not right. Something was missing. My dog would ALWAYS bark when someone rang the door bell. I stopped my mother before she could hang up and I asked in desperation, “What the hell is going on? Why is Lady not barking???” The pause seemed endless. Mother then took a deep breath, hesitated and said “Ya know when ya left in August and said I would know when it was time……..” There was a momentary lack of reason that filled my head. Suddenly it was clear to me…..Mother had killed my dog.

To this very day Mother will deny this ever happened. That’s what parents do as they get older. They develop selective memory and like to rewrite history. That was a long time ago yet it seems like it was yesterday. When your door bell rings this Christmas Eve and I hear your dog barking I can be rest assured you have never met my Mother.

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true meaning of christmas

As I write this it is the afternoon of Christmas Eve.  As a kid I loved this day.  Every Christmas Eve Mom, Dad and myself would go to to the Czekalinski home in Parma, Ohio.  It was always a lot of fun filled with Polish and Catholic tradition.  We would eat downstairs.  It was a “poor man’s meal.” Sole was the fish.  We ate on a huge table that was covered by a table cloth and underneath was a complete bale of straw spread out evenly.  At the end of the meal everyone reaches under the table cloth and pulls out a piece of straw.  If you had one with a lot of flowers on it, legend had it that you would enjoy the upcoming New Year.  Grandpa and Uncle Ralph now had a few glasses of wine in them and they started singing Christmas songs in Polish  My Aunt and Grandma just rolled their eyes and my Dad just shook his head and laughed.  Now it was time to go upstairs and open gifts!!!!  Finally….what Christmas is all about.

I was an only child and the first grandchild.  I was showered with gifts and it was never enough.  Surely there has to be MORE????  Well I was right with one exception.  It wouldn’t be found in a box with a bow on it.  Life moves fast my friends.  Life is always changing.  Mom and Dad got divorced when I was thirteen.  People took sides.  There was no more Christmas Eve at the Czekalinski’s.  Grandpa got cancer after that.  He suffered a lot and eventually died.  I grew to HATE Christmas.  It reminded me of how happy I used to be.  In my adult life I continued to look for that feeling I had every Christmas Eve.  I would just throw “money” at a bunch of gifts for people thinking that would at least bring THEM happiness.  I continued to be miserable.

I’m a Christian.  Make fun of me if ya want.  If you knew me, there are MANY things about me that you can ridicule.  I really don’t care.  Christmas is the birthday of a man that died for us so that we may experience eternal life.  I won’t bang the bible.  Anyone can do that.  It’s subjective.  You can pick and choose a quote to support any cause.  Try this.  Look around.  Nature is kind of a cool place.  Where did it all begin?  Some will say “The Big Bang Theory.”  Okay….I’ll give ya that.  Who made the big bang?

I’m just seeing this now.  I’m fifty-five years old and lived my life a hundred miles an hour with my hair on fire.  I have no idea why I am alive.  I was in a coma for five days in September of 2015 because I was doing bad things to numb myself.  This isn’t about me.  I only put myself into this story to show you it is never too late.  Christmas is the birthday of Jesus.  Jesus is not flash.  Jesus is all about faith.  What you do with my story is up to you.  Thanks for reading.  Merry Christmas.