Alcohol, lots of alcohol…

All kidding aside, holidays are almost (but not quite) a non-event. My parents are both long gone, and my brother died a couple of years ago. Even when most of my immediate family still walked the earth, I was often left to my own devices as both siblings were married and would celebrate with their spouses’ families.

The cheese stands alone.

Fortunately,  I had a couple of friends that “adopted” me for the holidays. My friend, Kurt, always made sure I was included in his family’s plans – especially the “big ones,” Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter. He is my honorary big brother.

Other holidays like Independence Day and Memorial  Day, I’d hang out with my friend, Cyndie. All her cousins, aunts, uncles, and other relatives twice-removed would gather at her folk’s house on the lake. We would drink beer, eat an enormous amount of potluck, and watch the fireworks.

I’m married now, so my hub’s family is the new go-to. It’s never anything elaborate, just food and conversation, maybe a football game playing in the background.  It reminds me of when I was younger. Most of my family was alive, and the house was filled with people, laughter and at least a couple of bags of Ruffles potato chips and french onion dip.

Looking back over all the holidays in my life, I’ve been pretty lucky. I spent over a decade living in other states, away from the main core of my family. Sometimes, workmates or friends would invite me to join their families. Sometimes, I would volunteer at a shelter or sing Christmas carols at an old folks home. Sometimes, I just spent it alone with a nice bottle of wine.

It’s all good. When you get to my age, just getting up in the morning and being able to take a proper poop is a reason to celebrate. Why wait for the holidays?