December 22, 20196 yr Popular Post My own was December 22nd, 1983. The first four years of my life was spent living in a single wide trailer. It was 50 feet long or so. My father, a mechanic trained in Germany starting at age nine to repair Mercedes vehicles, came to the United States with my Oma and his army stepfather (A violent drunk) in 1964. Fast forward to 1977 and he had purchased 15 acres of land in my hometown. This is a true story. He bought one of those yellow DIY books and the one he bought was how to build a house. My mom still has the book. My father was a brilliant human being. For the next 6 plus years he slowly built a house. He worked 60 hours plus a week. He added to the house when he had money. 36 years ago today my parents surprised my younger brother and I by moving us into the house and had a housewarming party by inviting all of our family. It was amazing. The house was not finished, but we could live there. He had well water and electricity courtesy of the Pedernales River Electric Corp. 36 years later my younger brother is back there. He and his girlfriend turned my bedroom into a nursery for their first child, Emma Grace, who was born in February. The room is just amazingly beautiful. My mother is still there and she is retired and loving having a grandchild. My father never completely finished the house. Someone asked her why she never allowed the house to be done competely because my brother could finish everything. She said "She wanted it left just how my dad did it because it was perfect to her like that." He passed away in April 2011 and she has been adamant about the house being left alone. That memory of moving into an actual house was amazing and I love this day and look forward to it every year even though I am 1500 miles or so away. I would love to hear some good Christmas or other holiday celebration memories. This is such a fun time of year.
December 22, 20196 yr Popular Post My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.
December 22, 20196 yr Popular Post My daughter has been through some shit she has no fault in, no input into and no way of avoiding. A few years back, as my divorce was just beginning I started a new tradition with her. Every year we dressed to the nines, and we will go see The Nutcracker at the Ellie Caulkins Opera house in Denver, followed by a really nice dinner at a very nice/fancy restaurant. Just got home 2 hours ago from this year's extravaganza. We giggled, and made jokes, we talked and talked, and then giggled some more, we got caught up in the magic and wonderment of Christmas, we watched a really good ballet, we giggled again, we ate like Kings/Queens, we giggled again, we went through one hell of a sugar rush, and then crashed out HARD less than 3 minutes after walking in the front door. Watching her with her little mouth agape while being caught up in the whimsy of the ballet, and seeing her hands involuntarily moving in artistic circles like she was directing the orchestra itself was absolute magic to me. Christmas long ago stopped being about the magic for myself. 9 years ago it started being about MAKING the magic for her, which of course directly translates into it being magic for me. What comes around goes around and all that. Tonight I was blessed again to be able to make some of that magic for her and with her. I pray to God that when the Alzheimers, or dementia, or whatever else comes to take my mind from me, that the last memory to leave me is the memory of tonight with my little girl.
December 22, 20196 yr Author 27 minutes ago, Buffsoldier said: My daughter has been through some shit she has no fault in, no input into and no way of avoiding. A few years back, as my divorce was just beginning I started a new tradition with her. Every year we dressed to the nines, and we will go see The Nutcracker at the Ellie Caulkins Opera house in Denver, followed by a really nice dinner at a very nice/fancy restaurant. Just got home 2 hours ago from this year's extravaganza. We giggled, and made jokes, we talked and talked, and then giggled some more, we got caught up in the magic and wonderment of Christmas, we watched a really good ballet, we giggled again, we ate like Kings/Queens, we giggled again, we went through one hell of a sugar rush, and then crashed out HARD less than 3 minutes after walking in the front door. Watching her with her little mouth agape while being caught up in the whimsy of the ballet, and seeing her hands involuntarily moving in artistic circles like she was directing the orchestra itself was absolute magic to me. Christmas long ago stopped being about the magic for myself. 9 years ago it started being about MAKING the magic for her, which of course directly translates into it being magic for me. What comes around goes around and all that. Tonight I was blessed again to be able to make some of that magic for her and with her. I pray to God that when the Alzheimers, or dementia, or whatever else comes to take my mind from me, that the last memory to leave me is the memory of tonight with my little girl. Wow that's such an amazingly beautiful memory you made. Thanks for sharing that.
December 22, 20196 yr 5 hours ago, Armybrat said: Yes it is, and I have that same Texaco die cast airplane bank in the picture. Got 5 other models too. Dad worked for Texaco for nearly 30 yrs. He was as loyal a company man as ever there was, and collected ton of gas station memorabilia. When he passed I inherited most of it, Between that and having an Aerospace Engineering degree, seemed like a natural for house decor.
December 22, 20196 yr Came in here to make a joke and ole buff has me crying. Good job, buff. That’s some damn good work you doing there.
December 22, 20196 yr Between that and having an Aerospace Engineering degree, seemed like a natural for house decor.From Texas ? What year?
December 22, 20196 yr That post by Buff Soldier might as well just shut down the thread. Priceless... My favorite holiday memory is as a 5year old in Denver, it snowed like a bitch Christmas Eve. My two older brothers and I were up before Mom & Dad and ready to rip open some presents. Mom & Dad finally got up around 7AM and told my oldest bro, 14 at the time to go get the dog dish out of the back yard so we could feed the dog. He came back in with the dish from the back porch with nothing to say. Then they sent my middle brother, 10 years old; to get the water dish. " How deep was the snow?" "about a foot" "did ya see anything?" " yeah, snow." By then our parents were losing it( laughing inside) and told us to go outside and take a lap in the backyard. We were like, "WTF? in the snow?" We go outside and there is a brand new trampoline from our grandfather in Texas. The profile made it virtually invisible in the snow. That was my favorite present ever, but the memory is lagniapped by the way my folks had to send us all outside to finally discover it.
December 22, 20196 yr My Guess-How-Many-Bones-He-Broke game with my Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle memory seems so hollow now.
December 22, 20196 yr 2 hours ago, That Guy said: Came in here to make a joke and ole buff has me crying. Good job, buff. That’s some damn good work you doing there. I was going to brag about when I got a Millenium Falcon for Christmas back in the early 80s, but yeah, that is pointless now.
December 22, 20196 yr Somewhere around 96-98 I got my mom a picture for christmas. It's a Picasso print of a mother and infant. I thought it looked like something she'd like and she really loved it. She passed away in 2007 and my dad allowed me to take the picture home. It hangs in my living room and will do so until I'm gone as well.
December 23, 20196 yr Got damn. Some dusty shit up in here. Glad to be subscribed to this thread. That said Scorpio has won the internet so far today.
December 23, 20196 yr 4 hours ago, tbone_ said: That said Scorpio has won the internet so far today. I wonder if Vilma is the same one who shaved Freddie Mercury’s testicles?
December 23, 20196 yr Popular Post Christmas 1983, my little brother and I were living with my grandparents. My mother was unusually lucid, she is schizophrenic, and my uncle was doing things around town, building parks and running the local soccer program. My mom had just gotten out of mandatory hospitalization. My mother let me sneak under the tree on xmas eve and open a present. We were dirt poor before moving in with my grandparents so I suspect I had no inclination of the joy of xmas from a child's view. My mother had also taken a fairly sadistic son of a bitch as a boyfriend, though he was married. Details aren't required but I lived scared. She wasn't doing well either so my dad was barred from seeing me. He would sit outside the house for quite awhile trying to see me. I would race around the house, trying to beat my mother to the door so I could get out. I loved my brother though, so I didn't want to do open any present without him. He was just over a year, so asleep. We had a great morning the next day, presents for days. I actually had toys. My grandmother was the engine that drove a very large family train. Everybody came over for the evening meal. Presents aside, xmas was just a magical time that year. My uncle held on as long as he could the next Christmas 1984. He was determined not to succumb to Cancer on xmas day, for his kids. He didn't want xkas to be ruined forever. He died on the 26th, my grandfather's birthday. My mother has never returned to that peak, in particular she began to turn on my grandmother when she was sick, for whatever reason. My father gained custody of me over the year but I lost access to my brother and grandmother, except for the holidays. My grandmother made me feel like the most important person in the world and my brother gave me purpose, helping and playing. We were 5 hours away so maybe once or twice a year. I cried for years, alone, after every visit. Naturally, my grandmother was never whole again, though she was a genius matriarch in every way. She passed last year. I hate that my best xmas led to so many good ones while it was her last perfect one. I couldn't possibly project my life without that xmas. It was a peak and helped turn things around for me for sure. I have been fortunate to have many wonderful xmas days afterwards as well. Edited December 23, 20196 yr by pacman
December 24, 20196 yr I've got a lot of great memories of the past but I'm making many more now with this crazy girl. I had a kid fairly late in life and she's my only one-that I know of. She was born on December 25th 2014. Greatest Christmas present ever. Sent from my SM-G973U using Tapatalk
December 24, 20196 yr Popular Post 5 hours ago, pacman said: Christmas 1983, my little brother and I were living with my grandparents. My mother was unusually lucid, she is schizophrenic, and my uncle was doing things around town, building parks and running the local soccer program. My mom had just gotten out of mandatory hospitalization. My mother let me sneak under the tree on xmas eve and open a present. We were dirt poor before moving in with my grandparents so I suspect I had no inclination of the joy of xmas from a child's view. My mother had also taken a fairly sadistic son of a bitch as a boyfriend, though he was married. Details aren't required but I lived scared. She wasn't doing well either so my dad was barred from seeing me. He would sit outside the house for quite awhile trying to see me. I would race around the house, trying to beat my mother to the door so I could get out. I loved my brother though, so I didn't want to do open any present without him. He was just over a year, so asleep. We had a great morning the next day, presents for days. I actually had toys. My grandmother was the engine that drove a very large family train. Everybody came over for the evening meal. Presents aside, xmas was just a magical time that year. My uncle held on as long as he could the next Christmas 1984. He was determined not to succumb to Cancer on xmas day, for his kids. He didn't want xkas to be ruined forever. He died on the 26th, my grandfather's birthday. My mother has never returned to that peak, in particular she began to turn on my grandmother when she was sick, for whatever reason. My father gained custody of me over the year but I lost access to my brother and grandmother, except for the holidays. My grandmother made me feel like the most important person in the world and my brother gave me purpose, helping and playing. We were 5 hours away so maybe once or twice a year. I cried for years, alone, after every visit. Naturally, my grandmother was never whole again, though she was a genius matriarch in every way. She passed last year. I hate that my best xmas led to so many good ones while it was her last perfect one. I couldn't possibly project my life without that xmas. It was a peak and helped turn things around for me for sure. I have been fortunate to have many wonderful xmas days afterwards as well. I was 5 in June of ‘86 when we had to move to New Jersey From Dallas for Dad’s job. Mom’s dad had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer that spring. We had flown back for thanksgiving that year. I remember I had brought “a gift” for him in my suitcase that my parents had no idea about. It was a brown paper lunch sack full of oak, gum, maple, ash and other tree leaves of all different colors from the fall. I said, “Papaw, I never saw these colors here so I brought them to you.” You’d thought I brought him a bucket of gold bricks by the look on his face. We had plane tickets to fly back on the 26th of Dec for Christmas, as it was horrifically expensive to fly on the holidays during that time. Got a call on Christmas Eve morning that we needed to fly home right then and there. Now. somehow, dad got the money together and we got a flight midday on Christmas Day from PHL to DFW. My uncle picked us up from the airport and they took me, just turned 6, and my 3 yr old sister to Papaw and Mamaw’s house where older second cousins were baby sitting us. Mom and Dad rushes to the hospital and got there about 8:30 or so. Dad went in to see him, and he asked what he bought us for Christmas. He walked out and his only daughter, my mom, went in to see him. He asked her the same. She said, “dad, we spent what we could to get here to see you, we got them some things but seeing you was what matters most.” He called my grand mom in there, and told her to get us a few extra things. Then he told my mom, “I was hanging on for you to get here, I love you”. And he passed. Love can drive the human body to do crazy things. They didn’t think he’d make it a week after thanksgiving, and they had no reason to believe he’d be alive 2 days after they’d called in a preacher to pray over him in the 24th. But seeing his daughter one more time drove him home. I love this time of year even though one of my first real memories of the holiday is one of great sadness, but it’s one of reflection as well. That sadness has been reciprocated many times over by joyous memories, but it also prepared me for three uncles I’ve lost within 10 days of either side of Christmas. It’s these times I find even greater strength in my faith
December 24, 20196 yr Author 1 hour ago, Gil Bang said: My son was born 12-24-87. He's my hero. Awesome. I cannot imagine how proud you are of him. I also cannot imagine how mad he is that you did not pick a better time to conceive.
December 24, 20196 yr Author Kidding of course Gil Bang. What a blessing to have a child at this time of year.
December 24, 20196 yr Just moved to Dubai. The kids were 5 and 2. They were scared Santa would not know where we were. My boss, really a mentor and second father, secretly ordered a Santa suit and showed up at my house with presents for them and a bottle of bourbon for me. Kids were starting to fall asleep when he showed up and it made their night. We had invited quite a few Filipino friends over and he had something small for all of them. So many people away from their families and he brought Christmas to them. Merry Christmas Surly, glad to be part of the community.
December 30, 20195 yr Popular Post So, an epilogue to my input above: Just dropped her off with her mother (mom gets the second 1/2 of the holiday break this year). We went down into Denver to see the lights on the City & County building after dinner before heading to mom's. A few shenanigans there, but overall just a nice little bow on the whole Christmas experience with her. On the drive from Denver, in an attempt to just make/continue light conversation, I asked her what her favorite part of the whole Christmas season was. I expected to hear "going to the Nutcracker", or "The presents", or "the time off school", or the candy, the food, or any of the other normal things one would expect from a 9 yr old. I was expecting that. A quiet little voice from the back seat answered, "Just being with you Dads". When I got her out of the car, she ran around and wrapped her arms around me. This is not normal for her. She's a big hugger, but she never initiates. She always waits to hear, "Gimme a hug." before letting loose. I picked her up, and she had tears running from her little eyes. She didn't want it to end. I walked in the door about 30 minutes ago. My house has never felt this empty. She's been at her mom's for just over a half hour, and I miss her like she's been gone a year. I am sitting her bawling my eyes out right now. Partly because I miss her, but mostly because I am so very thankful that I was able to help create something this magical and this meaningful for her. Best. Christmas. Ever. Nothing else can even come close. ....and to all, a good night.
December 30, 20195 yr Good stuff, y'all. Dusty as hell. 'Specially Buffsoldier. I've spent more time with my kids this Christmas than anytime since 2008 (to explain why, here are 10 words: Divorce, Sobriety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Chamberlain, Hitler, Munich Treaty, Sudetenland). Both kids were able to attend my side of the family's Christmas this year, at my first cousins house. @Trey3216 he's good friends with our mutual friend. When my ex and I split in 2009 and the psychological warfare started, I knew that time was on my side, that eventually the kids would gravitate towards the parent that treated them with unconditional love and kindness. It took both of them going away to college and escaping toxic codependency, but it's happened. This morning I drove my daughter to Hobby to fly to Chicago to spend new year's with her sorority sisters and walked her to the security line because I wanted to spend every available moment with her. She hugged me tight for 2 minutes and told me this was her best Christmas ever. And my son is headed back from an out of town wedding to spend the rest of his winter break with his stepmom and me. Enough of the dust. . .my parents were creative. One year the only thing "santa" brought was an elegantly wrapped box of rocks. When we got to the stockings, there was a red apple with a bite taken out of it, which of course made my parents laugh before bringing out the Apple IIc. I was a spoiled little shit. Edited December 30, 20195 yr by BearSchlong
December 31, 20195 yr Great stories from all! This is the last year with my daughter before she graduates and heads off to the East Coast for college.Since the divorce (she chooses not to spend holidays with her mom) we have always gone on a road trip somewhere. My son (in college, divorced when he was a freshman) decided the best way to not deal with his mom over the holidays was find a reason to go visit friends somewhere. Sucked, but I understood. This year I asked her what she wanted to do. We watched the Simpsons marathon, cooked great dinners, and just hung out with each other making it a goal to go get tacos for lunch somewhere different everyday. It does not take much, but the time matters so much. Oh, and I introduced her to Drambouie. Happy Holidays to all!
December 31, 20195 yr On 12/23/2019 at 10:41 PM, Gil Bang said: My son was born 12-24-87. He's my hero. Taxes... Right?
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.