Life as I know it: Embrace the magic of Christmas

My memories of the festive season run deep.

Christmas was such a magical time for me as a kid. And I have my parents to thank for that. I remember it all like it was yesterday. We would load up my dad’s 1952 army jeep with friends and family, and although it rumbled and chugged and was thunder-loud, it was a perfect shuttle down the snow-covered road where we sang Christmas carols at the top of our lungs.

I recall one Christmas Eve, after returning home late from a party with my parents and brother, there was no mistaking what I saw that night. In the dark star-filled sky, without any uncertainty, I witnessed Santa’s sleigh and heard the faint jingling of bells. One time, I swear, I awoke to the sound of prancing hooves on the roof. Waking up to see that the cookies we had set out for Santa were gone, and so were the carrots for the reindeer, only confirmed what I already knew: Santa was real. So were his reindeer, elves, and the North Pole. All of it was real.

That’s me stuffing my face with candy and my brother, Ryan. I probably ate his candy. When I was growing up, Christmas was always about spending quality time with family and friends.

But then I also remember (perhaps not so fondly) the day I found out the truth. It sucked big time. My parents didn’t tell me. Some big-mouthed kid at school did. But then other kids continued to come forward with testaments to Santa’s falsehood.

I remember following my mom into her bedroom, repeatedly asking her if Santa was real. She asked me, ‘what do you believe?’ I told her I wanted to believe he was real but I just wasn’t so sure. There were too many signs that pointed to him being a fictional character capable of insurmountable conquests. I questioned how one jolly guy could in fact make his way around the world with a sac full of toys for all the good girls and boys. And how did he, in fact, cram his plump rump down the flue?

I had already put the pieces together. I guess I was just looking to be consoled. It hurt. Santa was a figment of my little, gullible mind. How did I not catch on sooner? I think I was nine or ten years old. And I was absolutely, unequivocally devastated. I went to my room to think about what the coming Christmas would be like now that I knew the big secret. It was one of the most disappointing moments of my life. Christmas was never the same once I stopped believing.

My boys are five and three and let me tell you right now, it is a very exciting time for them. The other day my youngest asked me if he could call Santa just to say hi. Obviously, this ended up in a long conversation about why he couldn’t call the big man in red. Finally, I had to end the talk. No one can, I told him. His number is unlisted. He’s too far away to be reached by phone. And of course we ended that chat with him asking, ‘Why?’

My eldest blew me away when he recently declared he didn’t care what Santa brought him. He said he knows Santa watches him all the time through his big crystal ball in the North Pole and will bring him one, perfect present that he will love. Both of my kids know that Rudolph, with his nose so bright, will lead the sleigh and that at least two elves assist Santa on his big trip around the world. Seeing their faces light up and their squeals of excitement when I tell them how many days are left until Christmas is priceless. And I will forever cherish these perfectly innocent moments.

I know this photo is a bit blurry, but in my mind it’s so absolutely special. Watching my kids embrace the magic of Christmas makes my heart melt.

I want my kids to not only believe in the magic of Christmas but the power of it as well. Like they say, it truly is the most wonderful time of the year. It’s a time when you can do things a little differently, like visit with family and cherished friends, laugh hard and be extra merry, feel absolutely blessed for what you have and, of course, be selfless and generous to those less fortunate.

Embrace the magic. It’s way too easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle. Why do so many of us simply turn a cheek to the fact that we’ve become wrapped up in the consumerism of the festive season? That’s not what it should be about. We’re all standing in a long line with our arms full and we’re not even smiling. We’re pissed off that it’s going to cost us hundreds of dollars (or even a few thousand!) and we’re going to spend the next six months trying to pay off the debt we accumulated from this supposed merry time.

Start making memories instead of buying fancy, must-have knick-knacks and toys. They last so much longer.

Slow down. Take in the magic of the holiday season. Merry Christmas.

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