There was good news and there was bad news. The good news was that The Jerk was gone. The bad news was that he had taken with him all the money, including my most current child support and paycheck, and left me in the first stage of bankruptcy. Gotta love dating!
He had gotten in his motor home and left without a word to me or a “Goodbye, Merry Christmas” to Jake. I had $20 in my purse and that was it. My next paycheck would not quite cover my car payment, utilities and phone, let alone food or Christmas presents. To top it off, rent would be due a few days after Christmas. My situation was about as much fun as cleaning the grout in a fraternity shower... with my tongue!
I thought over ways in my mind to explain everything to Jake. Until now he’d been a lucky little boy, getting to celebrate all the Jewish holidays with his father, and Christian holidays with me. Perhaps this year I would have to tell him that we were going to have a Jewish Christmas? We could light some candles and sing Hava Nigila while we ate stolen crackers from the local Waffle House. Would he wonder why Santa had come every other year, but not this one? I was not altogether certain how I was going to handle it, or what we were going to do.
They say the holiday season can be the most depressing time for people, and that year was one of the most depressing I had ever had. There would be no food, no gifts, no visitors, no family… no one but my son, me and some macaroni & cheese for dinner. I had been left with a bad taste in my mouth (kind of like fraternity-shower grout) and I had sworn off men completely! If I’d thought it was in me, I would most definitely have become a lesbian, likety-split. (Freudian slip?) Of course I couldn’t help thinking that since I’d finally hit rock bottom, the only place left to go was up, right?
I put on my game face and proceeded into the world like a warrior to battle. I wasn’t going to let them get me down. (I have no clue who “them” are, but it just seemed to work in this sentence.) I held up fine at work, and I was great when my son got home. It was just those in-between moments I had to worry about. Stress was taking its toll and I was unable to eat (which helped conserve food) and lost weight (which is never bad when you’re female).
I was now working as an office manager and my co-worker, Dan, noticed. As there were only the two of us in our office, we would often scatter our life stories among the idle chatter. He soon knew that I’d rid myself of The Jerk, and The Jerk had rid me of all my money. (Thank goodness I didn't have to deal with that pesky stuff any more! Perhaps I could just trade with shells and pebbles.) Knowing the bags would be empty when Santa got to our house, Dan brought in one of his son’s older video game systems and a few games to go with it. To me it was a pot of gold. There would actually be something under our raggedy plastic tree when Jake awoke on Christmas morning... and what mother doesn't want to create a new techno-addiction in her child at such a nice, young age?
Unbeknownst to me, Dan had discussed my situation with one of our regular customers. This same gentleman had once asked me out while I was still with The Jerk, and though I had politely declined the invitation, we remained friends and spoke frequently. In fact I had already mentioned to him that I was no longer with The Jerk, but had not gone into detail about my situation beyond that. I did not wish to be a depressing presence to those around me during the holiday season, sob, sob, sob...
Once again the gentleman (henceforth known as L.T.) asked me out, but of course I was simply not ready for any man to be within a two mile radius of me… well, at least not in that way. He even offered to take my son and me with him on a Christmas vacation to
I don’t know if I can fully describe the emotions that swept over me at that moment. I felt wonder, joy, amazement, sadness, depression, anger, anxiety and happiness all at the same time. All these emotions were swirling about in my head like a great tinsel-wrapped tornado. I wanted to laugh, cry and scream in both fear and bliss. So much had been destroyed in the last few weeks, but Christmas was still coming to Jake’s and my little world.
Later that day as I was getting ready to leave the office, Dan handed me a large box filled with food. Once again I was reminded I had not been forgotten. We are all familiar with “the meaning of Christmas.” We’ve heard stories and seen TV shows and movies where people go through wonderful transformations and learn that Christmas goes far beyond the strategic commercialization of the jewelry and toy makers. Those stories have always meant something to me (in a cheesy kind of way), but I can honestly say that in the Christmas season of 2001 that feeling far transcended any I’ve ever had. While I was at the lowest financial and emotional point I’ve ever been, I was swept off my feet by the kindness of others. Awwwwwww, right?
I must tell you that I did take my son to the toy store to use the gift card we had received. After much deliberation, he chose a number of toys that he liked and we went to the check out counter. At this particular store, business is tracked by taking each customer’s phone number at the time of sale. As our turn came up, the boy behind the counter (who couldn’t have been more than 20 years of age) politely asked, “May I have your phone number?”
Jacob looked him square in the eye and said in a voice loud enough for most of the store to hear, “Ooooooooo, you want to date my mom!” We left soon after with my hand still firmly in place over Jacob's mouth.
That year Santa came to our house. Jake couldn’t have been more excited by the wonders he found under the Christmas tree. We enjoyed the company of our next-door neighbors, ate a wonderful Christmas dinner and we all played silly games well into the evening. After all the bad things that had happened, suddenly I found my faith in human-kind being slowly restored. I learned more that Christmas than in any I can remember before or since. While the lessons hurt at the time, I will carry them with me for the rest of my life, kind of like that tacky popsicle-stick Christmas-tree ornament my aunt once gave me.
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