How I got through the holidays

The holidays weren't as bad as they could have been. That's the best thing I can say about them.

Of the big three holidays, the one I was most worried about was Christmas Eve, because Deb and I would wait up til midnight and open our presents. This year, I didn't even put up a tree, much less have presents to open.

New Year's was also one to dread, because we would ... um ... er ... we had a tradition, let's leave it at that.

Thanksgiving, I didn't worry about. Turns out it was the worst of all. I suppose it was because I didn't make plans or because it was the first real holiday without Deb, but that was the one that put me in a funk. I worked, but even that couldn't mask the fact that when I went home, I was alone.

Christmas eve, I was better prepared. I worked again, but I also stayed late. When I went home, it was already Christmas. There were no presents to open, no tree to stare at, and the only gifts left for me were the ones the cats left me in the litterbox. Not exactly Bing Crosby, but I knew it was coming, so I was ready.

New Year's, I invited co-workers after work to come over to watch my infamous "Wheel of Fortune" appearance from 1985. (No, that's not what Deb and my tradition was) When we arrived at my house, the fireworks all across town were lighting up, and at midnight I wasn't alone.

When everyone one had gone home, I took a glass of champagne onto the porch and lifted it to the sky. Then Deb and I had a toast. "To us," I said.

That was part of our tradition.