The card.

There were a bunch of presents neatly tucked under the bright Christmas tree. The lights flashed their purples, reds, yellows, oranges, pinks and greens. It was Christmas. Even though there was no sign nor any real proof, the date read: December 25th. That’s all we need to know. This is the only way of knowing that today is that day.

It started out waking up at 9:00 a.m. to “Merry Christmas Darling” by Karen Carpenter. Her vocals were the perfect type to wake you up out of a deep sleep. They weren’t loud or raspy, nor were they booming and startling. The pill from the night before sat in my stomach and I felt nauseous. Ever since getting four of my wisdom teeth pulled, my mouth hasn’t felt the same. But, I figure, in a matter of a few days, everything will be back to normal and I won’t have to chew with my two front teeth.

My older brother comes in saying “Merry Christmas” while I groan something about going back to bed. It was the morning of December 25th and gifts were waiting to be opened. They sat patient for about four days and could no longer stay put to be unwrapped.

The best friend was coming over around 10:45 a.m., so we could exchange gifts. Breakfast had to be made for me since if I didn’t eat, I would have passed out. I felt like I was going to vomit.

After the completion of breakfast, we all gathered together to hand out the presents.

The thoughts that encircled my mind were: doesn’t one think it’s peculiar  to set-up a tree to keep gifts under to give to your family or loved ones? What’s the point? Is the whole point of Christmas to buy something for another person?  Why can’t it be about families spending time with one another? Does it always have to center around the gift process? It should be more about family than anything.

As my brothers & I unwrap our packages, we observe to see what one another has received.  The time passes by 10:45 and the Virgin Mobile loft vibrates with a text message stating, “Hey I will be over between 1115 and 1130. But i will stay an hour.” This is fine since it is Christmas and there has to be time spent between him and his family as well.

After the time strikes 11:45, the looks and whispers circle around the room. Where is he? Will he be here soon?

Then, there is a knock on the door around 11:55. It’s him.

When the hellos are exchanged between the mom, dad and brother, him & I venture into my room. This is where we give one another the gifts.  As I hand him my wrapped package, I tell him that there is another one on the way and this is the only one I have for him right now.

He nods and hands me two cards & a long box in wrapping paper. I watch him open up the card I bought him. Then, I begin to rip mine little by little.

The card.

The card is usually what matters the most. This is the item that has meaning, writing,emotions, and thoughts. Not that the actual present doesn’t have a special existence in my life, the card just contains… “it.”

Here, there is nothing but cut out prints of the 3 Kardashian sisters, reality starts which are talked about amongst him & I.  No writing. Nothing. I feel empty. He says, “I didn’t know what to write.”

After our 4th year of Christmas together going through many obstacles, both up & down, there’s “nothing to write?”  How is that possible? There is ALWAYS something to write.  What is the difference between this year and the past years?  I don’t know what to say. I write about two pages. I always write that amount.  I mean, most of it is the same crap over and over, but I do try to change it up a bit.  Maybe rearrange some words and avoid writing something that sounds completely the same.  What about the other years when you Thanked me for all the nice things I’ve done for you throughout the whole year?  What about that? I guess this year he just didn’t have it in him to write the same shit over AGAIN.  I mean, how many more times do I want him to thank me?

Can I really sit here and overanalyze this?  No, let’s just enjoy our last few hours of Christmas, because guess what?  It will only be 364 until next Christmas.

How’s about some homemade pumpkin pie?

I will leave you all with this song.

Enjoy the rest of your holiday…

❤ Hope Kumor

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