All I want for Christmas?

My parents have been asking me what I want for Christmas for a few weeks now. This is unusual, because by this point in the year, I normally have a short list of stuff I’ve been thinking about ready for them. Things that I want for the kitchen, American snacky food I can’t get over here, books, movies, that kind of thing. But this year, I’ve found it hard to make a list.

All the things I really want this year are not things that can be bought or sent, or in some cases even explained very well. And this has made the tangible stuff seem kind of pointless.

It’s not that there’s nothing material I want or need. I’m not that far from normality. I mean, most notably, I need a new computer, but that’s something I need to give myself because it’s expensive. And I need to do it soon, because if I let my computer crap out before I’m able to replace it, it will truly be the mouldy cherry on top of the shit cake that has been this year. It makes me nervous to say this, but not much else can go wrong at this point. I’m sure someday I’ll look back at all of this and laugh at the seemingly endless string of tragicomic events that have stacked themselves up, but it’s hard to laugh when you’re still sitting in the middle of it.

But anyway, there’s other stuff. Like a new wallet, better pillows, a dinosaur comics tshirt, and the new Coldplay CD. But none of it will make me happy. I’ll enjoy it all, but stuff and things aren’t what I need. Right now I’m concentrating on making stuff for my family, because that makes me feel useful and happy. I rarely ask people what they want, because I’d rather try to figure something out that they’d love so they know I’m thinking about it rather than just plonking money down on something they told me about. That’s not to say that kind of gift giving is without thought, it just doesn’t make ME feel as good about it, so I suppose that’s a little selfish. Oh well.

So I’m going to send my parents the list they’ve asked for. And I’m going to enjoy whatever they get me, because I enjoy any kind of gift from anyone. And I know they just want me to have a nice Christmas despite everything. It’s just really nice to be thought of or remembered in any way, and I’ve realised this the older I’ve gotten. It’s kind of the same reason I’ll eat anything someone bakes or cooks themselves, even if they go on about how horribly it came out. It’s the effort and the love that counts as much as the taste.

I guess what I really want for Christmas is for next year to be better. I don’t know what that looks like yet, but if I find out, I’ll let you know.