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I fucking hate Christmas. (lemmy.world)

submitted 6 months ago by [email protected] to c/[email protected]

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On December 24th, 2008 I was almost 21 and drinking wine at my Grandma's house with my family. We were having a good time. I don't really talk to that side of the family anymore though. I got a phone call from my best friend, Kyle. I joking let my uncle answer. Kyle asked to talk to me. He sounded angry.

The next few words he said were like a a fucking nuclear bomb that seared my fucking brain for life. He said, "NineMileTower, Steve died (in Iraq). A bridge gave out, his hummer flipped, and he drowned."

That was in 2008. I'm 37 now. I have two beautiful girls and an amazing wife. I think of Steve all the time. I ask myself, "Why do I deserve these amazing kids, wife and life, and he had to die?"

I fucking hate Christmas. I hate the stupid music. I hate fake bullshit decorations. I hate that I'm supposed to pretend that every Christmas it doesn't fucking kill me that he isn't here. I'm here enjoying my kids and their holiday and he's dead.

I fucking hate Christmas.

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[–] [email protected] 5 points 6 months ago (1 children)

Sounds like a fair reason to hate it, don't have much to say/offer besides condolences.

I imagine it would've made Steve smile if you made them kids and wife super happy around Christmas, but what do I know?

A few more days, then we're on to sales, new years and that weird time when everyone's jazzed on a new year but exhausted from the last one.

[–] [email protected] 6 points 6 months ago

Steve was really good with kids. Probably because he was never going to grow up. He would have loved my girls.

Neither him nor I are religious people, but he still smiles in my heart at us.

A few more days and its back to regular guilt and not Christmas guilt again.