So Kristi tells me that I should write something today, something about festive goings-on that doesn’t involve whining about the move. Which I’ve been pretty good at doing this week.

So, Christmas.

It was never a big priority in my family. Dad had had some bad experiences connected to Christmas in his early manhood, so had abandoned the holiday for years; following that, the seventies, eighties and nineties found my parents shifting around in their religious faith a lot, with Christmas being celebrated sporadically at best in our house. Then they started celebrating Hanukkah in the early nineties, right about the time my brother and I moved out on our own. That pretty much brought Christmas celebrations in my family to a final halt. I have very thin relationships with my extended family, who all live far away; few of my friends celebrate Christmas much, either. So it just withered on the vine.

Florida also isn’t the place for a traditional Christmas. It’s still pretty warm in December. It’s crowded, and people move in and out constantly; most people here have never met their neighbors. The mass consumerism is out of control. Here in the Sunshine State, we’re a theme park surrounded by shopping malls – the holiday season isn’t much more than an economic event in Florida.

So over the last fifteen years, I’ve rarely done anything for Christmas. Never owned a tree, rarely bought (or received) presents, got used to it as just a day when absolutely everything was closed. I long ago stopped feeling much about it, one way or another. Just another day.

Recently Kristi asked me, when was the last time I remember actually going out and doing something for Christmas?

Umm.. I suppose the closest one would be 1999. I’d been living in Tampa for six months, hadn’t thought to stock the fridge, needed some food. The only place that was open was a China Buffet, so I went and ate Dragon Chicken and then caught a movie.

Kristi wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

So she assures me that I will have a proper Christmas this year, with lights and a tree and stockings and everything else. I’m looking forward to it. Not entirely sure what a traditional Christmas is supposed to look like anymore, but I am looking forward to it.

I’m thankful for a lot this year – for Kristi, for family, for good business, for the luxury of living my life the way I always dreamed of, for unlimited long distance, for fresh squeezed orange juice. The list goes on.

Spending Thanksgiving this year with my family was very important to me – my parents aren’t getting any younger, and you never know. It could be the last one we all spend together, at least for a long while. So when Wednesday morning rolled around and I was forced to conclude that no, this isn’t just stress and exhaustion, I’m actually getting sick, I wasn’t happy about it. I don’t get sick often, so I never learned how to be a good sick person. I’m a downright cranky sick person. Especially when it screws up something like this.

I slept most of Wednesday. Kristi was incredibly frustrated that I was a mess but that I was 3000 miles away from her ability to do anything about it. The apartment gradually filled with used tissue. I finally called my parents late that afternoon and told them that I probably wouldn’t be able to make it – I had taken a shower earlier and had nearly fallen down from dizziness, so I probably wasn’t in the best condition to drive a car, much less be around healthy people.

A half hour later my parents were at my place with hot chicken soup, meds and herbal tea, and making plans to bring a Thanksgiving dinner over the following day.

After they left I went back and slept a few more hours, then got a bowl of soup. It helped a lot; I hadn’t had an appetite for anything since breakfast. Kristi called and we commiserated on our day, but by then I was already heading towards unconsciousness again; I dropped out and sweated through the night.

By Thanksgiving morning the fever had broken and I actually felt like getting up, getting some breakfast, maybe even going over for Thanksgiving. My parents and brother assured me that they didn’t care whether I was contagious; they cared a lot more that I was there, and getting better. So I went over and had a wonderful Thanksgiving. The day ended with Kristi and I reading the Count of Monte Cristo until it was time to go to sleep.

Today I’m mostly recovered, hawking phlegm but generally just getting it out of my system. I’m planning to rest out the weekend.

You know, I always kind of felt that it’s most important to be thankful for the little things. We’re thankful for the big things all the time, but we take the little things for granted and we shouldn’t. Health. Breathing. A wonderful woman. A decent meal. Good medications. A roof over your head. People who actually, truly care whether you live or die. And as always, unlimited long distance.

(My brother Chris dug this up on YouTube: the all-time funniest Thanksgiving sitcom sequence ever made, the great WKRP Turkey Promotion. No one’s ever topped it. And watch it all the way through – there’s a wonderfully creepy M&Ms commercial at the end.)

(Boy, that didn’t take long – 20th Century had the video pulled from YouTube. Just go over to YouTube.com and do a search for “WKRP Turkey”. You should find another there somewhere.)