I know that when this time comes with Ave & Bryce that I will have the wisdom and grace to give my children the gift of "forever believing". Thanks MOM! xoxo
Re-posting from December 2012...
When the"IS HE or ISN'T HE REAL" (Santa) question came up for me as a child it was one of the most memorable, devastating AND greatest life lessons I learned during my childhood. Rewind about 30 years...
It was a long time tradition at my house that my mom and I would gather in her room and wrap Christmas presents. I looked forward to this most. Aside from Christmas morning, of course. I fancied myself as a "professional" gift wrapper. I learned at a very young age the "art" of cutting the paper ever so perfectly so that the corners would fold "just right". I loved to don the parcels with ribbons and bows galore...sometimes to the extremes, read...tacky.
Anywho, the way it would work is that my mom would sit on one side of the bed (on the floor) and wrap and I would sit on the other side, so we couldn't see each other's gifts we were wrapping. I was always responsible for wrapping her friends gifts and that somehow made me feel really important. When we were done each gift we would place it up on the bed and admire one an others "talents". I never paid much attention as to who's presents she was wrapping, I was far more interested in comparing my "wrap job" to hers. (I always thought mine was far superior...for the record...LOL!) I was probably about 8 or maybe even 9 years old when I looked over and read the tag on one of the gifts she had wrapped...I was SHOCKED. Here is the conversation that ensued, the best I can recall:
Me- "To Ginger, From Santa. WHAT? How can this gift to me, be from Santa?" All of a sudden all those comments I had heard for years from the kids at school flooded back into my mind. The ones where the kids talked about how Santa wasn't real. I was one of the few who never paid much mind to those statements and would often challenge and "defend" the big fat guy's validity.
Mom- "Ummm.....Ummmmm....I thought you knew?"
Me- "Knew what? That he isn't real. Are you telling me he isn't real?" In hindsight, I was being overly dramatic about the whole thing. But in my defense, I felt like my entire existence was now in question. How could THIS BE?
Mom- "I really thought you knew." Poor mom. She felt so bad.
Me- "I guess I do now." I was so defeated. Sad.
Mom- As always, my mom knew just what to say, "Santa IS real Ginger. He lives in our hearts and he is the spirit of receiving but more importantly, of giving. Santa will always come to our house, every year, as long as you believe."
I was positive that had I stopped believing at that very moment, Christmas would be forever ruined. I never questioned if Santa was real again. Never. I also learned that the Christmas season was more about giving, than receiving. That Christmas, I bought my Cabbage Patch doll tons of presents from Santa. All the gifts I purchased for my parents...yup, you guessed it...they were from Santa too! I remember feeling such elation and joy, despite the heartbreaking truth I had learned only a few weeks beforehand.
Morning came and as anticipated there was some cash under my pillow and the note was gone. I held on to the glimmer of hope I had that the Tooth Fairy might be for real as I looked in my wastepaper basket and it was empty. As I made my way to the garbage in the bathroom I had a little skip in my step which quickly turned into a mini-jig when I did not discover my note there either. I was just about to raise my hands and sing a song of "Hallelujah, not all is lost...the Tooth Fairy exists" and then it hit me. NO! No, it will NOT be in there. I slowly made my way to my parents bedroom and quickly glanced over the dresser at their trashcan...my heart sank. I grabbed the crumbled up paper and ran to the top of the stairs yelling..."WHAT IS THIS??? I knew she wasn't real either!!!" Before I could get too worked up, I heard my mom yelling at my father...
"I TOLD you NOT to put that letter in the garbage Barry!!"
To which my father calming replied, "What the hell is she doing rooting around in garbage's anyways?"
As my mom ran up the stairs to do "damage control" she yelled back, "I just knew it was a trap. I told you if was a TRAP!!!!"
Mom did her best to calm me down and went through the same "...as long as you believe...blah, blah, blah" spiel and on I went with my day with another lost part of my childhood to contend with.
Easter was a few weeks after that and I just "went with it" and had a blast searching for my Easter eggs on the annual, much anticipated hunt. I graciously and appreciatively accepted my basket of goodies from the Easter Bunny, even though I knew mom & dad were the ones to be thanking. I had no tricks up my sleeve that Easter. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. LMAO!
And for the record, each and every tooth I lost after that went right under the pillow and cash "magically" appeared. After all, my mom told me IF you just believe...
Merry Christmas and Remember...NEVER stop believing!!
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