Everyone has their best Christmas story,and their worst. This is my worst..Mostly because
it was sad, but I'm sure there are far worse out there, but what to do now about that
memoir I was working on, oh my. Back to worst Christmas...Lets's see, it was around
1964......
I was 7 or eight, the youngest of four. My father was a compulsive gambler, so our lives
reflected his habit. There were the good times, and the bad. This was a really bad time, and
I think he didn't even have the heart to pretend, that things weren't bad.
So we walked into the local grocery strore. It is a nice one, with a five and dime area too. My father
tells us all "Pick out one toy, or item and that is your Christmas."
So the search was on. This is a grocery store, so the selection was pretty thin. This is 1964,
toys were few and far between. I found one of those packs which contains minature food products,
and soap. cute little cardboard pretend food.
My older sister, picked out a six gun with the belt.
I don't know what my older brother picked out.
My oldest sister took forever trying to find the most exspensive thing in the store. She searched and
searched. The rest of us, being defeated fron the start didn't put that much energy into picking out
our one and only Christmas gift.
Finally she points up, above the meats. There on a top shelf, all by itself was a large doll with
multilple outfits to change into. Probably measuring 30" tall. A very nice, large doll, worth far
more than the dollar objects we had chosen. My sister knew it was probably beyond my
fathers' budget, but he just shrugged. Hey, a deal is a deal. Damn!! Why didn't I see that
doll, but it was so high up. She would never let me touch it, and it was sooo beautiful.
My crummy cardboard food looked dim, against that lovely doll. Too bad they only had
the one, or I would of changed my mind, but no such luck.
Flash forward, like 13 years, I am in college. My roommate and I are telling Christmas
stories. She starts telling me a story that her mother would tell at Christmas, when they
complained about their gifts.
It went something like this " My Mom is in a grocery store,."She see's this father and his
children. The father tells his kids, pick out one item or toy, and that will be your
Christmas.
I said, "Holy shit, that was my family, that was me."
She's like, "I thought my Mom made that story up, she is gonna flip out."
Swear to god. She grew up probably about 20 miles from where I grew up
in Michigan. We both were attending MIchigan State, in East Lansing, small world.
Yeah, I know, Oprah is never gonna believe this one.