If you don't know me from around GrassCity, I'm not a religious person. I don't include religion in anything and a majority of my "Christmas circle" don't either. On Christmas Eve, we always go to a bar as a small tradition. For me, it's about spending time with people you don't get to see as often as you'd like. We talk about life. We talk about how things are going. How our jobs are. How our families are. What our future goals are. Our kids. Since we started this tradition (before we could even drink in the bar) the group has gotten smaller and smaller. Not by choice, but we always make sure to toast to the people that couldn't be there. Brit, Jesse, and Gumby - we loved you. We'll see you again sometime, I hope. RIP. Our group got smaller but slowly grown up. We've got jobs. Children. Wives. Husbands. Homes. Dogs. New friends. Nice bosses. Good vehicles. We do grown up things now, too. We talk about what we're investing in and what we failed at. So, this Friday night I was there with our group of about 15. We looked respectable. I stood in the corner with a few in me and I couldn't see anyone as they are, but all I could see was who they were back then. It was like I jumped back ten years when we were teenagers. I saw us struggle through homework. I saw us struggle against personal demons. I saw the people that lost fights and couldn't be there. I saw us as a group of rebel kids that couldn't tell the difference between our ass and a hole in the ground back then (and on occasion, still). And for some of us, I saw the person we were when we had unlimited potential. I saw a few throw all that away. I saw the ones that said they would never amount to anything. This year, I saw pictures of sons, daughters, weddings, first homes, new families. They were shown to me by 20-something year olds who were proud of who they were and who they became. It was easy to remember everyone 10 years ago. I sat in the corner of the bar for a while, and remembered when Saturday nights were party nights instead of nights of Twister with the kids. I was proud of my group of friends. The friends that did stupid things together. Some went to war against each other. Some went to war together, literally. Some went to war with themselves. Everyone was there. Even the ones that never made it were there. In my head, that is. I saw the people that struggled, and I saw people that still struggle. I missed them. I thought of Brittany who hung herself in my cousins basement. She made a decision. It was a bad decision, but the bad times got to her. Sometimes it's hard to see light in the darkness. Sometimes failure is big, sometimes it's small; but failures make us who we are. Maybe that was genuinely her only option in her eyes. My mom failed. My dad failed. I failed. My daughter Mila failed in the few years she was alive. Everyone is failing or failed. But we all win. If nothing else, for the fact we keep going as long as we can. All to find a better spot in life than they are now. Everyday I wake up, I say "Do whatever it is to make Eric happy. Do whatever it is to make sure Life doesn't beat Eric." My will is too strong to have life win at anything. If you realize it or not, your will is too strong, too. Christmas, for me, is about another year that we got our teeth kicked in and our ass beat by life. Another year where life tried its hardest but still can't win. Just another year. Another year where we lost friends, parents, and family. Regardless what happens, how hard life hits, what life did, or how life is going - all of us in that bar got back up. We might not get up tomorrow. Tomorrow life might win. But as of Christmas 2010, it hasn't yet. [ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l48rYD611ZQ[/ame]