I know that there are many that share similar memories, Freedom96.
Luckily, my parents weren't "very good" witnesses. My grandmother, who lived with us, was the JW zealot. We had no Xmas, but we didn't go out in service. What I remember as a kid, was how quiet, and abandoned, our street was because everyone was inside enjoying the morning with their families.
Because we weren't active, I really didn't have any JW friends. But, I was allowed to play with worldly kids. Xmas day, no one could play. I remember the door of my best friend's house. It had a huge plastic picture of Santa Claus on it that covered the whole thing. I used to stare at it after I would ring the bell waiting for someone to come to the door. Because of being a JW, I never believed in Santa Claus, but I would wonder what that was like. Wanting to participate in the celebration, yet thinking I'm going to be kid puree for even having such thoughts.
Two words would describe those days: Isolating and lonely.
Andee