I had been away from home for far too long. Almost everyone I knew had been home at least one more time than I had and were lucky enough to not be viciously homesick. The winter cold had started, and I was more than nostalgic. I missed home. I remember waking up to six inches of snow one morning and being as giddy as could be because I had a remnant of home. I could see something that I had missed so much over the past few years. But, for a moment, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get home for the holidays.

Of course, this was not something I was unfamiliar with. I always get a little anxious around Christmas time. This anxiety is unfounded, though, but I understand where it comes from. Growing up in a low-income family, we were not exactly blessed when it came to the holiday season. I recall some of my friends back in Montana describing magnificent trips around Europe over winter break that absolutely mesmerized me. I had never even dreamed of being able to experience such marvel in my life, and hearing about others' experiences was enriching to a young kid with an active imagination.

But despite my lack of materialistic behavior, I still could not be a little envious of my counterparts at the time who had the luxury of wealth. I was not privy to that exclusive club, and I believed that I never would be. Yet Christmas was that time of year where I could just let all that go. I didn't need to preoccupy myself with petty desires for things I did not or could not have. Instead, I wrapped myself into the festivities and just had fun.

The mysticism around the holidays was enough for me. I was that kid who would leave his room early in the morning to sneak a peak at how Mom and Dad set up the presents and decorations around the Christmas tree. I, admittedly, even managed to find some of my presents in my parents' room. That was probably the most criminal thing I did as a child, yet I still get anxious, to this day, about admitting that to people.

I never got a wink of sleep on Christmas Eve for that very reason. Yet now, as an adult who went through the whole week before final exams with less than 30 hours of sleep—most of that in two days—it's a bit harder for me to feel that same joy and elated sensibilities that all kids experience at least once in their lives. Well, a lot harder. Especially around this time of year, I always seem to fall into a bit of a funk. I can't help it, seasonal depression affects a significant portion of Americans today. Sure, it always goes away once I get back into the swing of things at school, but I still have a general fog of gloominess surrounding me at all times.

That does not stop me, though. I may no longer be able to experience that innocent and oh-so-precious childhood joy that I was very familiar with growing up, but that does not mean that I cannot enjoy myself around my family. Considering the fact that I did not get to go home for Thanksgiving Break, I certainly look forward to seeing family and old friends again. It is in those people (as well as the new faces I've added to my list of friends) that I am thankful for, who make the holiday season all worth the wait for me. I embrace the traditions my family has created, and let the camaraderie satisfy any desires for the material.

Oh, by the way, Mom and Dad, just like with every birthday and every Christmas, I won't be asking for any gifts this year. I can finally say why now, at least. I don't need gifts because being able to come home and feel the familiar warmth of our tiny house and big personalities is more than enough, and a $680 flight is more than I could ever allow myself to ask for.