My brother has no interest in Christmas, his birthday, or any Holiday. Our spend a lot of money, but nothing else father had a lot to do with it.
Plus, Lonney had many years in which he had dang little money to spend for his family for Christmas.
He seems to believe in a Higher Power, and in the Son.
But when it comes to all the trappings and gift giving, he would give to his son, and sometimes to his wife Rhonda, my mother and I, but they were money, or "It's Christmas, here." Cards.
To outsiders, it was totally Bah, Humbug.
Now for the other end of that rope.
My Spendalot Father
Dad spent most of my earliest Christmases overseas in a foxhole.
The one Christmas he was home, I have been told that he spent $100.00 on my Christmas.
This was in the early 1940's while we were still at war.
But did he ask anyone what to get me? No, of course not. Instead, he went out to Sears and got all the stereotype little girl gifts.
He didn't bother to find out that I hated dolls. Most of those gifts were dolls.
He didn't find out that even at the age of four I loved to read. No books.
He didn't bother to discover I was a tomboy. Jeans would have been great. He got no clothing of any type.
No, there were a pile of dolls, which went onto a shelf and gathered dust.
I did play with the kitchen set for a while, till I realized it didn't really cook or bake anything. I helped my prize winning grandma Strong with her baking even at that age by standing on a chair stirring jam.
I even helped roll the flour for her pies etc.
He never bothered to get to know me at all.
True, he only had a three week furlough, but he spent it all away from me.
He only had one interest in little girls, as I learned at six.
He paid no more attention to my brother than he had to me.