Christmas has always been a big deal to my family, and there have only been a handful times where I wasn’t with mine through the years. All of those were tied to my decade-long career in newspapers, one that included six publications and cities and 12 residences. Talk about your nomadic existence.
I wasn’t away from home for the holidays until 2002, the year I moved away from the Midwest for the first time. My first wife and I tied the knot in May of 2002, and we moved to Texas two days later for my new job as a sports writer at The Monitor in McAllen. I will always remember crying like a baby during our first night in Texas because I’d never lived that far from family.
That was a difficult year. At age 25, I clearly was not ready to handle three major life changes. A marriage, move and new job was simply too much. Not surprisingly, that marriage was on the ropes by Christmas. It was an odd day, during which I worked, and there wasn’t a traditional meal. It was the second saddest holiday I’ve had (the saddest being 2018 when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer a few days before the big day).
From McAllen and in the midst of a divorce less than a year into marriage, I moved back to Kansas in 2003, working at the Topeka Capital-Journal for four years. During that time, I lived with the old man in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, during my first Christmas back, then with my brother and his family in Harveyville for two years, and finally in an apartment during the 2006 holiday.
Those were memorable Christmases because my oldest nephews and niece were babies/toddlers. My brother and I probably spent as much time playing with their toys, notably a race track, as we did actually putting them together. The day of, of course, the kids were far more interested in the boxes than their gifts.
In 2007, I moved east for the first time, largely to see about a girl. That year, I began working at the Daily Press in Newport News, Virginia, commuting from Williamsburg every day. Man, did I hate that drive on I-64 south.
That year was the only time I enjoyed a Christmas away from home. In the days leading up to Dec. 25, I flew to Cleveland to spend the holiday with my girlfriend Jena and her family. It’s the only time I’ve been to that city, but we had a blast on a trip that included a drive through a snowstorm, several way-too-expensive gifts from her mother and exploring a place that was more fun than expected. To this day, Jena and I are friends.
The following year, however, was difficult. At Christmastime in 2008, I was three months removed from a breakup and 1,200 miles from family. As I often did in the newspaper days, I worked on the holiday. What I mostly remember about that Christmas is that it was incredibly lonely.
My last Christmas away from home was 2009, and it coincided with my last stretch in the newspaper business. I moved to Tulsa that September to work on the sports desk at the Tulsa World and actually had Christmas day off. However, a snowstorm blasted the city on Christmas Eve.
It snowed so much that several roads and highways, including the one leading to my brother’s house, were closed. Instead of spending the holidays with my family, I went in to work and clocked eight hours of overtime, traveling to Kansas the next day to celebrate Christmas.
Christmas in 2010 was my first one home in four years, but it came at a difficult time. I was working part-time as a contractor for little pay and no benefits, trying to find a new career. I was also getting over a rather toxic relationship.
But that Christmas Eve will always be one of my favorites because I spent several hours texting a girl I went to high school with that night. We went on our first date two weeks later and have been together since, including nearly 12 years of marriage.
I married into a family that celebrates Christmas as much as mine always did. In the span of a year, I went from lonely holidays to multiple family Christmases. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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