The Ghost Of Christmas Past

I'll have a true Christmas without you
I won't be blue or thinkin' about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Will shine so bright, 'cause you're not here with me

I'll have a true Christmas that's certain
I'm feelin' fine, and my heart ain't hurtin'
I'll be doin' all right, with my Christmas of white
Hopin' you have a blue, blue Christmas.

Ah yes, Christmas time is here. The most wonderful time of the year...not! I shouldn't say that. I really love Christmas, always did. I loved everything about it...the shopping, baking, decorating, wrapping, all of it...until I married Dick. I still loved the ideal of the season and all that goes with it, but with him, everything that I loved to do for Christmas became a chore. Just getting the tree up and decorated more often then not required some form of begging, bribing or threatening. Everything was stored in the attic...the tree, outside decorations, wrapping paper, all of it. It was a two person job getting it all down so I was always at his mercy. When we were dating, Christmas was wonderful. He would shower me with gifts. "Too much" I would say. "Never enough" he would respond. Then we would passionately kiss and happiness would just ooze out of us, as little white doves took flight. Yea...that last part never actually happened. My point is that before marriage he would shop for me and his family and did a fine job of it. But for some reason, as soon as that ring went on his finger he became completely incapable of entering a store...unless of course he needed to shop for himself. It was all left up to me. All of it...even my own presents. I know...don't ya just want to slap him? I would get all the gift shopping done and plan on baking, cooking, cleaning, etc., the week of Christmas. I would have my whole week planned out and he would want me to go Christmas shopping with him. "I don't know what to get you." He'd whine. The first time he did this I told him I just didn't have time and that it didn't matter because I would love anything he got me. You know, its the thought that counts kind of thing. Big mistake. That platitude only works when you actually put some thought into what you are buying. I swear he went to Sears and just grabbed whatever. I got a sweater that I wouldn't be buried in, that is if I could even fit into it...a housecoat, not a nice snugly bathrobe, a "just like my mom wears" housecoat and slippers...I have never worn slippers. Then there was the flashlight to go with the "roadside assistance kit", a cordless phone, and a lovely napkin holder with matching salt and pepper shakers. As I opened each hideous gift, I played the part of someone who would have actually thought these things were appropriate gifts for a husband to give a wife. "Oh"...gulp..."Thanks, how nice." I would say while thinking, where the hell is the jewelry, and where can I return this? I swear there must have been a store called "God-awful Gifts" that catered to the likes of Dick. He would always tell me if I didn't like something, I could return it. Of course, if I ever did that, he would be very offended. The next year I guess he thought he would make it easier on himself and just get one big gift. Because we had been out looking at cars a few times but never got one, I thought I was getting a new car for Christmas. Silly me. I had no idea who I married to back then. What I did get was...a new stove and a stocking full of the same crap I got every year. The stove was a nice one, but really, a stove, for Christmas? Needless to say, after that I started making time to go with him to pick out my own gifts. I did insist that he at least wrap them though. I know, pretty lame, opening gifts that you picked out yourself. But the alternative was just to horrifying to chance. On the flip side of that was what I bought for him. I would rack my brain trying to come up with just the right stuff and be so excited to see him open his gifts. But, he would just let them sit there under the tree and maybe open them or maybe not until the next day. One year I bought him some black jeans. He loved jeans, lived in them. This way, I thought, he can still wear jeans and be comfortable, when blue jeans aren't quite the appropriate attire. Brilliant idea, I thought. When he opened the box and saw the black jeans he just stared at them for a bit and said "Oh, black jeans...hmm...guess I can put them in the drawer with the other pair you bought me last year." Who wants to slap him now? Anyone? Step up and take a number..."The slap Dick line forms here!!!" I told him that I didn't remember buying him black jeans last year or remember him wearing them. "That's because I didn't. They still have the tags on them." he said. "Why didn't you wear them?" I asked. "I guess that would be because I don't like black jeans." he said with the attitude that clearly meant he thought I was stupid. So, Christmas usually turned out to be one disappointment after another. But that is all behind me now. This year, Christmas is what it should be, because I gave myself the best gift of all ten months ago...freedom.