J

Justin baby, I can’t do it. I can’t do Rosh Hashanah. Not for you. Not for Gus. Especially not for Mel. I don’t do holidays. Holidays were not done in our house. Neither were birthdays. We weren’t Jehovah Witnesses. Jack was just cheap. His money only went to drink and gambling. You say it is the Jewish New Year. Why in hell’s name would I do a Jewish holiday? I don’t even do Christmas or Easter.

Holidays are commercialism to the ultimate. I know. I make the ads, but seriously, I don’t do holidays because…because they have bad memories for me. Memories I can’t afford to remember. Dear Jack was always drunk but if it could be possible on the holidays he would get even drunker. So would the warden…ie…mommy dearest. She went into the bottle so she didn’t have to deal with Jack and what Jack did to me. If she was passed out, she couldn’t be to blame was her adage. Bullshit. Neglect was what she was doing.

The holidays I could count on no presents except black eyes or broken bones and the thing was I would be beat up again because I was beat up once. If dear ol’ dad caught me after the second one, I would then wind up in the hospital. Great holidays, wouldn’t you say. It didn’t have to be Christmas or the Fourth of July. Any holiday would do. Halloween, St. Patty’s, even a Jewish holiday or two. He said, any excuse to drink was a good day. Passover was one holiday he enjoyed. Wine would indeed pass over his lips, over and over again. Four cups with food is done at a Jewish holiday each symbolizing something like redemption. Well Jack believed in forty cups with no food and skip the redemption. I usually got beat by the time he reached the tenth cup. What fun! Holidays for him was sacrilege. Just another lame ass excuse to beat me up, as if he really needed one.

So you want to celebrate the “High Holy Days” for Gus’ sake and with Mel. You looked so disappointed when I said I wouldn’t celebrate. Besides, the fact that it isn’t one of my holidays and poor Gus will be put through it, even though, three of his parents aren’t Jewish is not my idea of having fun. You say you want to experience it just once. You promised just this one time. No repeat performances. Right.

Now, if your argument was for let’s say, maybe Christmas, at least, you would have a chance, though a slim one at that. Now Halloween at least has candy for the boy, but did you know I wasn’t even allowed to go trick or treating. My mother didn’t approve.

You looked so disappointed, so sad. It hurt me to see that but I just can’t do it. I just can’t. Holidays just bring back too many memories and they are all bad, too sad. I spent them either at the hospital or in my room in excruciating pain. Holidays were the worst. The hardest for me to get through. I can see now why the winter holidays are the most depressing for those who have those tendencies. You are alone and you have no one. So easy to give up during them. That much at least has changed. I have you. I still fear you leaving me someday. Then where would I be? Will I be able to go on? Will I be able to live without my lifeline, my joy? Will I be able to go on just for Gus or myself? To be honest, I don’t know.

I hadn’t wanted to live past thirty but you changed that. You gave me a reason to live. Will I have one if you weren’t here? I think about that a lot. I think about it more than you know. You are my heart and soul and without you, I will only be a shell. Do I want to be a shell so easy to crush like an empty peanut shell? I hope I die with you or soon after. I don’t want to feel the pain.

Well, this is a letter of holidays. It is so hard to even go to Debbie’s on the holidays. She forces me so that I am not alone. I think she fears I will off myself then. She actually saved me from that once. She stitched me up and gave me a reason to live. I am grateful to her for that now. It took me a while to realize I was better off living. I delved into my studies then. I gave myself a reason to live. Once I was in college I was free. At least, I thought I was until I met you. You were the one who really did free me. Now I keep the charade because I want to, not because I have to. I have someone that knows me. You read me so well. Sometimes, it frightens me because you know me better than I know you or me for that matter.

I need these people, this crazy family of ours. I just don’t express it. No matter how they treat me it is better than the Kinney house. Debbie does love me you know. She has a strange way blaming me all the time but she does. I take it because I am afraid of losing the little I have. I couldn’t defend myself when she started it…blaming me that is…but now I am used to it. I feared losing the only mom I had. Can you understand that? I let it slide off like a duck with water. It hurts though. It really does. I feel. I always have. I just pretend I don’t, but you know that. You always have.

Ah! Screw it. I will go. The least I can do. You say they celebrate with honey and apples for the New Year. You said, it signifies bringing in a sweet New Year. Well, let this year be sweet, as sweet and good tasting as you.

Damn! This is hard but I guess I can suck it up for two hours for you Sunshine. I never could resist you. Besides, this is one holiday that dear old Jack hasn’t defiled so maybe it will be just fine. Besides, you will pay with your sweet butt tonight. Ahh! The pleasures I am in for and the delights.

B

PS. Don’t ask for Yom Kippur. I will not do atonement. Besides, I will get to see Sonnyboy for a few hours. He better not be put to bed before I leave. That tidbit I left up to you. Damn! I can never say no for long to you.