Our families are the best Christmas gifts

Christmas is here.

Where did November go? I am still eating leftover turkey sandwiches.

Our family traditions are moving forward at full throttle. The tree and lights are up. A gingerbread house from Job Corps sits in the living room perplexing the cats. My wife, the cookie factory, is churning out tasty treats by the dozen. We are mulling over Christmas lists and scrutinizing our schedules for time to shop.

Then there is family. No, scratch that. It should be plural  — families.

December is the month when we celebrate three Christmases. One is with my parents in Seattle. The second is with my wife’s large farmer’s family in Kelowna, B.C., Canada. The third is just us.

The trip to Seattle always seems to coincide with snow blanketing Interstate 90. Our trip to Canada tradition involves reciting what presents we are taking across the border and reassuring Customs we do not give out firearms, ammunition or tobacco products for Christmas.

The driving, fuel costs, border interrogations and time are always worth it. They are easy to endure with the payoff being time well spent with family enjoying the holiday.

This year my loving wife allowed for a fourth Christmas. It was with two of my three brothers. No, we do not share DNA.

I am an only child. Go ahead and laugh, and yes it does explain a lot.

While growing up, I chose my brothers and sisters. They are friends I have kept close for decades. When I get to spend time with them, they make me happy. They recharge my batteries. When I have had a bad week dealing with selfish, arrogant jerks bent on Grinch-ing Christmas, my best friends help me forget and fill me with energy to happily face whatever comes next.

Chip has been a friend for at least 13 years. Our wives know that when one of us is in less than cordial spirits, the other can magically put them in a better mood.

Phil and I have known each other for about 22 years. I was there when his son was born, graduated from high school and moved back in. He is a kindred spirit, who shares my sense of humor to the point of being eerie.

On Thanksgiving he sent me a random text that left me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. It read, “As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.” It’s a wonderful quote from the television show “WKRP in Cincinnati.”

Then there is Dave. We met in the seventh grade. We tried to fight each other then, and now 30 years later we swap tales of health care, mortgages and the required “Remember when?” stories. Even my mother tends to think of him as hers.

Chip and Dave recently visited us in Moses Lake. It was a great Christmas gift. I didn’t sleep enough, ate too much of the wrong things, swapped the same old tired stories with them and every minute was worth it.

But we had a time when we were less than merry. We were sad. Chip’s mother recently died of cancer. Dave and I were cheering Chip up. It was tough.

Chip’s mother had adopted me as one her children years ago. He and his sister laughed at me when it happened. Lois Campbell was a strong woman from Georgia and did not tolerate bad behavior.

I knew I was adopted when visiting with her on a snowy night on the way to visit my wife (girlfriend at the time) in Canada. She told me to call her when I got there. I rolled my eyes twice. Once when she told me and a second time when I called her after I arrived.

She was my second mom and I miss her.

I may not have any brothers or sisters by blood, but the friends I chose are my family too. They are people I love and make me and my life better. I owe them a lot. Every time I visit them it’s a gift. This year, we swapped our “gifts” early. We gave each other laughs, hours of reminiscing and a few tears.

Merry Christmas brothers. Thank you for such blessed gifts.

Bill Stevenson is the Columbia Basin Herald managing editor. He wishes everyone a very Merry Christmas and the best of holidays with their families.