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It feels different, Christmastime. There’s always a crisp breeze blowing; a catchy Christmas carol playing; and everywhere you look, things are all dolled-up. But while normaly, there’d be a lightness to my step, I was hardly excited this particular Christmas season.

What was bugging me was that upstaris, my mom was packing to go to the province on Christmas day. My lola called some two days ago, asking her to go — it had something to do with my late lolo’s business. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent. Mom had to say yes.

I was hanging out in my sister’s room when Mom apologized, and told us she was leaving. She left as my jaw dropped, and my sister lunged for the phone. “Cari?” she called her friend, “Great news! I can definitely go out on Christmas day! Count me in!” She put the phone down after much squealing. I looked at her incredulously, “What do you mean you’re going out?! It’s Christmas day, for heaven’s sake!” I blew up.

“Lighten up, will you?” she said. “If Mom’s not gonna be here for some family time, then why should I? Besides, theme parks are always at their best this time of the year.”

I left the room annoyed, looking for proof that I wasn’t just being a walking mushball about Christmas. My younger brothers were watching TV when I told them the news. Miko was just laughing at his stupid show all throughout my spiel while my youngest brother, just eight years old, started tearing up.
Don’t tell me I’m acting like an eight-year-old,” I warned Carlo, as he visited me that day hoping to get a head start on my mom’s spaghetti. “I mean, I’m not as huge a fan of Christmas as you are, but I do believe there are some things that need to stay the same. Christmas is a time for being together. All my family wants to do is fall apart!” I wailed.

“There, there,” he said, while he slung an arm over my shoulder. “She’ll only be gone a day. You’ll have tonight,” he said, trying to comfort me. But I couldn’t really buy into what he as saying. For me, this was a glimpse of Christmases to come: each of doing our own thing, not really caring for spending time as a family, forgetting that warm fuzzy feeling we’d get from knowing that everyone is in each other’s presence for a whole day at least (without work or school to deal with).

I backed off, but I wasn’t comforted. All day I threw dirty looks at my sister, who surprisingly, had been granted permission by my dad to bail out on us on Christmas day. I rolled my eyes behind my dad’s back when he said yes. I was annoyed that he chose this time to be lenient when he’s always been strict, and hurt that he obviously thought it wasn’t such a big deal. I hogged the TV from Miko, sure that he was letting idiot box rule his life and cloud his judgement — he didn’t even look up while I poured my guts out, he might as well make the darn TV his family! I pushed my mom’s roller brush under the bed–just so she’d lose 30 minutes trying to look for it. And I threw Carlo out, just because he didn’t help me any.

Come noche buena, my mom led a thanksgiving prayer after I was already maneuvering to get the best piece of ham on my plate (I was determined to get dinner over with quickly, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me enjoy their company for the short time they would have me enjoy it). I tuned out, but not enough to miss it when Mom said, “…We thank you, Lord, for the gift of each other for all 365 days of the year…”.

And then it dawned on me — tomorrow was one day out of 365 that I’m given with my family. I already wasted one with my tantrums today, I wasn’t about to lose tomorrow, even if it is Christmas day, by throwing another fit. So I turned over the remote to my brother, wrote Mom a letter for her to read on the plane, made garlic toast for Dad in teh morning, and helped my sis pick out an outfit for her gimmick.

“What’s this?” Carlo asked, as he opened the door for me, and I handed him a tupperware full of spaghetti. “A peace offering.” I said, apologetic. “Sorry I didn’t buy you a gift.”

He took the tupperware in his h and before he turned to look at me, “Oh, the fist for me’s right here.”