No More Santa

I passed rather quickly over the fact that this Christmas is the THE CHRISTMAS that my son figured out, at the ripe old age of 8, and announced to me rather woefully, that there is no Santa. It's a big deal and I've been wanting to write about it all week. There's a complicating issue that he feels he must pretend for his dad (my ex) that he still believes in Santa for some reason, which I found oddly touching and poignant.

I want to go to that place in my heart where all the signs are still posted with messages like SANTA LIVES! and a sign that says SANTA HAS A BIG SURPRISE FOR YOU! and SANTA LOVES YOU! as I know that place is still alive and well. No parent or teacher or grinch managed to shut it down in me, whether they tried to or not. I nodded politely when they told me whatever they told me and looked down at my shiny black patent leather Mary Janes shoes and thought, "Liars! Of course there's Santa and of course he's gonna bring me something incredible."

As a grown-up girl (something my son calls me, which is to underline the fact that he knows I'm a girl and don't like to get punched in the arm or rough-house and roll around wrestling on the floor with him like his dad and other boys do, but also I'm a grown-up and not like the girls in his class, all of which he hates now and will adore in about 3 years) I still get that rush when I look into a big red shiny christmas bulb and see my face stretched smiley red and happy, as I dream up some excellent surprise Old St. Nick has up his sleeve or in his big red bag for me. A girl can wish, right?

And I think all grown-up boys and girls should feel that crazy thrill at this time of year that something perfectly insane and wonderful and unexpected can happen. All it takes is a little imagination. All it takes is stepping outside of our usual routine and doing something nice for someone and letting them do something nice for us.

I want to put my finger on that feeling -- what it would feel like to feel indulged, pampered, showered with an amazing love and kindness -- which is what the Santa Thing is all about. It's getting away from the heavy feelings that paying the bills and the mortgage can bring on; the worries that illnesses, loss of jobs, loss of physical ability can dump on us; the regret at opportunties lost to us, or the just plain sadness of friends or family lost. All that worry and worldly weight. We need a few days a year to throw it all off. We need to get kissed under the mistletoe by someone who really shouldn't be kissing us and we really shouldn't be kissing. We need to let our hearts get giddy with glee like kids ripping open pretty packages. We need to remember all of that can happen.

I guess I'm going to have to sit that kid down and give him a piece of my mind. Tell him he's got it all wrong about there being no Santa. Let him know this is the best Christmas ever, because now he's old enough to be drafted into the Santa Corps where we all learn to dress up in red and white outfits and play Santa for one another.