It is one of the mysteries of my life that I can remember certain decade-old events in such vivid detail that if feels like I’m experiencing them all over again. Yet I can’t seem to remember to sign my six-year-old’s notebook each night.
Poor Peter, he’s sorely lacking a few stickers in his book because his mother’s mind has taken a long extended holiday.
With Christmas right around the corner, one memory that keeps popping into my head is the day I learned that Santa Claus wasn’t real–at least not in the way I first believed.
I had just turned 8, and on that fateful day I began my road to adulthood.
Holidays in my family were a huge deal, and none was as big as Christmas.
Right after Thanksgiving, my mom would paint a Christmas scene on our front door, start baking dozens of cookies and plan her wonderful gingerbread houses. There was a joy that entered our house, and it stayed all through the holiday season.
My parents loved the mystery and fantasy of Christmas. They really turned the day into a magical celebration, and Santa Claus was a huge part of their plans.
There would be some talk about being good for Santa, but I don’t remember my parents really holding it over our heads.
Of course they didn’t have to because you see we not only believed in Santa, my two sisters and I knew there was a real living Santa Claus.
We saw him every year.
At around 2 or 3 in the morning of Christmas Day, Santa Claus would come in to set up the Christmas tree and bring our presents. He would stay just long enough to wish us a Merry Christmas, and then he would run out the door to continue his work.
Why were we so lucky to get to see Santa each year when our cousins and our friends did not you ask?
Well my maiden name starts with a B, and as everyone knows Santa delivers his presents alphabetically. It was just a good piece of luck that we had a name in the beginning of the alphabet. Our best friends and cousins had to suffer with surnames starting with Hs, Ms, or Zs.
Poor souls.
My parents would put us to bed by 7 or 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve. The ornaments would be left out so Santa could trim the tree for us. We didn’t see our Christmas tree decorated until Santa came.
We would be busting with excitement, and it seemed impossible that we would be able to sleep, but somehow we managed. The idea that Santa would not come unless we were sleeping was a powerful motivator.
With much fanfare and excitement my mother would wake us up in the middle of the night. She would tell us to listen for the sounds of Santa’s reindeer’s on our roof.
(It wouldn’t be till later that I found out it was my dad throwing pebbles on the roof. These people were not fooling around.)
I could hear Santa’s familiar HO, HO, HO. This was the big moment I waited for all year.
Too bad I was half asleep at the time. My sisters and I could barely keep our eyes open.
I felt as if I was in the presence of a celebrity. I would get very nervous and hang on to my mother. This wasn’t just one of Santa’s elves dressing up as Santa at a mall, this was the real deal.
Santa would tell us how good we had been and hand us each a present. He would stop long enough to take a picture and then leave. We would then maul our presents till we could see what Santa brought us.
As we were opening our presents my dad, who always managed to miss Santa, would come back from the store having had to buy ice at 2:00 in the morning. We would tell him all about our visit and would unwrap the rest of our gifts when it was still pitch dark outside.
When I was in the third grade my friends started to say that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. They had the crazy idea that our parents were the ones who really bought the gifts.
Poor misguided souls.
If they only had names in the beginning of the alphabet, they wouldn’t be questioning the existence of a person I not only believed in, but saw every Christmas with my own, albeit very sleepy, eyes.
I decided to ask my mother why these poor children would doubt the existence of Santa Claus.
As I remember it, I was alone in the car with my mom. I asked her if Santa was real. I remember telling her that I really wanted the truth.
“You really want to know Kathy?”
“Yes.”
I should explain that I was almost 100% sure she was going to say yes. How could it not be true? I saw Santa with my own eyes each year.
“Well, there is a Santa, but he is the spirit of Christmas.” Then she went on to explain that the man in the red suit who rode in a sleigh with eight reindeer was just a fun story.
I was devastated. This was not the answer I was expecting.
That was the beginning of the end of my childhood innocence. I found out the truth. Daddy was Santa. He really did not go out to buy ice in the middle of the night, he was getting out of his costume.
What was the world coming to? What was she going to say next that there was no Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny either?
At the age of 8 I started my journey into adulthood.
We both cried in the car. It was the beginning of the end for her too. Her oldest child was growing up.
My mom asked me not tell my sisters or any other child who still believed the truth about Santa. She said that each child should figure it out for themselves when they were ready.
That stuck in my mind. I never told my sisters or anyone else what I knew. I would let the uninformed masses stay uniformed till they were ready to jump into the abyss.
That Christmas was different for me. It ushered in a new phase in my life. I remember I got to stay up a bit later and trim the tree with my older cousins who were already in the non-believers club.
As much as I loved the mystery of Santa, I also loved that I was growing up. I felt as if I was in a secret club, different from my sisters.
The following Christmas we started to put up our tree and decorate it as a family. We still waited till Christmas eve to put it up though.
As each of my sisters got older and learned the truth our traditions changed.
Santa remained though.
When my youngest sister finally confessed to knowing the truth my parents didn’t retire the Santa suit. We just started taking turns dressing up and playing the role.
By the time my first child, Tom, was born, it had been a few years since the suit was used. But it’s been back in business since his arrival 13 years ago.
This year there will be seven grandchildren–ranging from our new teenager Tom, to my adorable nephew who just turned one.
Even though I’m all grown up and I know who the real man in the Santa suit is, I can’t help but feel the same charge of excitement I did as a young child whenever Santa comes in my parents’ house and smiles at my children.
What a wonderful gift my parents gave my sisters and me in giving us the fantasy of Santa.
They always worked hard to give us the material things they knew we wanted. I had Christmases with favorite dolls, TVs, and stereos. There was even a puppy when I was 11. But looking back, it is the wonderful memory of Santa that lingers.
All the stuff my parents bought me is long gone, even my beloved dog has been gone 20 years.
But I’m 46 and I still remember the joy and pure excitement of seeing Santa each Christmas. My parents must have been exhausted, but each year they came through.
It helps remind me that the magic of Christmas and the lasting memories are about moments shared with family and loved ones. I can come with a long list of all the material things I want, but they pale in comparison to the time I get to share with my children, my parents, my sisters and their children, and my husband.
Those are Santa’s greatest gifts.
one mom's attempt to find humor in the chaos
Much thanks to Joseph Radigan, who besides being a great husband and father, also uses his talents to gently and ever so tactfully edit my blog. Joe is a business editor at Thomson Reuters in NY.
What an awesome story! It brings tears to my eyes because my son – who is in 4th grade this year – is on the fence. I don’t want to tell him the truth yet but he will be 10 in January so maybe it’s overdue. I know I will cry like your mother did…I will have to look at it more like a new chapter rather than the beginning of the end. I’m just waiting for the moment he figures it out, I’m sure I will be the one to mess it up by not hiding presents properly…
This is beautiful! Your parents truly succeeded in bringing out the spirit of Christmas. I remember when I found out there was no Santa and the devastation was much the same as you described. My children are still young and I love to see the thrill in my son’s eyes as he gazes upon pictures of Santa or the admiration as he sits on his lap each year. It brings back all the memories for me, including the day I learned that Daddy was Santa. I am not looking forward to creating that memory for my children. I wish they could hold that innocence forever. But, since they cannot, I hope I can bring out the true joy and meaning that lies behind good ol’ St. Nick just as your parents have so clearly done for you.
This is how I remember growing up! What a great post. Life did feel simpler back then. I am a little older than you, but I remember when I found out too. I was the eldest so I had to keep it quiet for my younger siblings. After the sadness, came a feeling that I was special since I was the only one that knew the truth! Thanks for sharing your story. xoxo Lisa
I remember how devastated I also felt when I found out that there was no Santa… Yes, I felt the same when I learned about the Easter Bunny as well. The whole world caved in on me…
Now I’m having quite a bit of a dilemma as to whether I should have my daughter believe in Santa. I love how your mom explained it to you.. Maybe I’ll borrow her line? … That the spirit of Christmas is the real Santa… so essentially, he exists. With your consent, I’ll use your mom’s line 🙂
Wonderful post! I loved that your parents made the effort to make Santa come to life at your house.
I can’t remember the moment I knew Santa wasn’t real, but I do remember crying one night over they fact that my mom admitted to me Santa wasn’t real. I already knew this, but I wanted a little extra attention and milked it for all it was worth. “That means the Easter Bunny isn’t real either!” (sob, sob, sob) I was sneaky like that.
Today I find so much joy out of the excitement my children feel during this season–quite magical. 🙂
What a great story Kathy!
I am still “playing Santa” and although my oldest no longer believes…my 9 year old totally still does.
I am that good. Tee hee.
Such a terrific story. Your parents really went all out! I remember vividly when I found out there was no Santa (and then put the rest of the pieces together) but played it up for years later because I didn’t want “Santa” to know he forgot to take the price tags off the drug store gifts. I dread when my own kids figure it out and most days, I forget that “Santa” is really the Spirit after all. I love reliving the excitement with my kids!
Your parents sound wonderful (full of wonder)! I feel sorry for the parents who get so caught up in reality, that they miss this magical time with their kids by not allowing Santa and his giving Spirit to be a part of their Christmas.
We are all believers in our home and the magic continues!
I can’t remember when I learned that Santa was really my parents and grandparents. But I sure loved the idea that my daughter now can fantasize about Santa, the reindeers, cookies for Santa, and all its magic. It’ll break my heart when I have to break it to her 🙁
Thanks for the great comments and the great support everyone!! It means so much to me!!
As I was writing this I realized just what a special gift it was! My parents are great people but they were human and things weren’t always perfect but I think it was those special times and the effort my parents made that let my sisters and I know we were loved. Which is the best gift I think we can give our children!
Thanks again guys!! Much love to you all!!
I loved this story so much. You brought tears to my eyes. Your parents gave you such a gift by helping you to believe in the magic of Christmas.
Great story!!!
Great story!
My mom took an interesting approach to the Santa thing – she still hasn’t admitted it to this day!
When Mackenzie stood in front of me, hands on hips, a few years ago demanding that I tell her “the truth,” I did. But in my case I had to add “But don’t tell Nana. She doesn’t know yet!”
🙂
What a beautiful post! I have tears in my eyes, I almost started full out crying as I sit here at work, when your mom admitted it in the car!!!! And I love that Santa put the tree up while you slept, what a fantastic way to wake up Christmas morning!!! I have had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year (today was 70 degrees in MA!) and this has helped! Merry Christmas!
Kim
http://www.mytwintasticlife.com/
Well, being of another faith, we too celebrated Christmas as kids and it is truly a wonderful experience. We had a Christmas, which was then whittled down to a Channukah bush, and then it was just presents in a sleigh, until finally, it was back to ol boring Channukah. I’m glad, though that I had the chance to experience it all. LOVE it as always!
I meant, we had a Christmas TREE etc…
Beautiful story! **tears**
Thanks for reminding me that Santa is real.
This post is a perfect example of why it was so important to me to have you in my tribe. Beautiful, poignant, and such a great read.
I love the magic that surrounds Christmas too – and I’m not looking forward to when my children start school and could possible find out that Santa is not real! So, like your parents, am working hard each year to keep that magical spirit alive for my kids (my oldest is only 4, but she is very clever, so fingers crossed for many more Santa-filled years!).
Thanks for sharing your story, Kathy – it must be wonderful to have so many cousins around for your children to share Christmas with:)
Kristina
Loved it! One of the best parts of parenting is sharing those special traditions with our children…you are blessed.
This is really precious- your not talking about your dishwasher though LOL I know in other posts.
I cried when I heard there was no Santa too.
I’m not sure if I’ll tell Matilda he’s real. She’s just 8 months I have time 🙂
Awe…all grown up before you hit double digits. I was also 8 when I found out Santa was a myth. I was so distraught I looked at my padre and said, “Oh great…and I suppose your gonna tell me the tooth fairy and Easter bunny aren’t real either.”
He just looked at me and said, “Well…”
Real life totally sucks.
Kisses to you my love
Sharon
oh how wonderful…i can just see them throwing pebbles on the roof!i recently found the most awesome pin on pinterest about a letter amum wrote to her daughter who asked for the truth of santa…here’s a link to it if it works…its so lovely and well worth a read for every parent. jane xxxx
http://pinterest.com/pin/226165212506614718/
Thanks for sharing such a touching story. I’m waiting for my daughter to ask about Santa, she’s already 10 but she hasn’t asked us yet. Love your blog look you can’t go wrong with Mommy Blog Designs. Thanks for G+ me and stopping by my blog.
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kathy, this post has touched me in such a way.
i have many tears. what a beautiful, wonderful, magical upbringing you had. what amazing parents you have. to gift of imaginmation is such a blessing.
my mom went out of her way to “play” santa. we never saw him but we saw all of his footprints scattered through the month of december. i often think of all my mother did to make christmas so special for my brother and i.
as i’m already growing more and more sentimental with the holiday approaching, your words have certainly brought it out even more.
thank you. i say it often…your children are so lucky.
i cried hard when you said you and your mother both shed tears at the fact that you were growing up.
so beautiful.
wishing you a wonderful week <3
XOXOXOXO
maria
Awesome story! You had me on the edge of my seat and took me back to the magic of Christmas…even though our family didn’t have Santa as part of it! Beautiful that you and your mother cried when you entered adulthood at 8 years old.
So true Kathy! I have vivid memories as well of utter excitement waiting for Santa. We never had him in person like your Dad, (which is so awesome!), but with 7 of us, my parents would really scramble in those short hours of sleep, to have this unbelievable presentation from Santa on Christmas morning. Looking back now, I don’t know how they pulled it off every time.
Back for more…I’ve nominated you for the ‘My Blog Is Great!” award! Come over to mamawolfe and see what you won! http://mamawolfe-living.blogspot.com/2011/11/sassy-lady-bloggers.html
Great story Kathy! I love that you never really stopped believing…neither did I!
Merry Early Christmas!
Love the story! I love Christmas and all the memories, but sad to say I am debating on the Santa Claus thing with my daughter.
Precious story! Your parents did indeed give you a great gift! My littlest is enthralled by the idea of Santa and I love it. We write him letters, are baking him cookies, and anticipating the treats he will leave, together. My oldest knows the truth but at times I think he’s forgotten and I’m thankful he enjoys his sister’s delight and doesn’t spoil the magic for her.
Wow, Kathy…I’m actually all choked up reading this. As in full on tears. Ok, I’m crying like a freakin baby! Thanks a lot!
Seriously, though I love this post. I love the traditions. My parents were divorced when I was very young so I missed out on a lot of those beautiful traditions. As a result, I probably do overkill in my own house with my daughters. I want them to experience the magic, the joy, the wonder… and I’m dreading the day Faith comes to me and asks if Santa is real. My girls both know the reason we celebrate Christmas is to honor Jesus’ birthday. They know He is the reason for all of it. I’ve been adamant about that fact. But I also want them to be kids and enjoy the fun stories and mysteries of the season.
I swear…if I could convince my husband to put on the fat man’s suit and go up on our roof to make noise so the girls would think Santa was here…I totally would make him do it. Lol! For now, I’ll settle for sprinkling reindeer food on the lawn on Christmas Eve night and pigging out on Chocolate Chip cookies and milk after they go to bed. I’ll be sure to leave lots of crumbs too. 🙂
~Love you,
Rosann
Your parents really created some magical memories for you – you were very loved and lucky. My parents did not dress as Santa, but I remember the magic of Christmas. Recently, my sister and I were watching old home videos of our Christmases and it brought back such fun memories.
Thanks for another wonderful post!
I always get so teary coming here! What a beautiful story, and what beautiful loving parents you have to have gone to that extent!! This year with the kids we are going to throw crushed ice up the driveway and tell them that it came from Santa’s sleigh, but that’s nothing compared to what you grew up with!! I love it xx
I had to read this to my husband. I felt like I was reading something similar to the movie called “I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.” Oh my goodness! I love this!
Thank you all for such great and thoughtful comments! Christmas has always been a favorite holiday of mine and I think it’s because my parents always had such fun with it! I have so enjoyed remembering that time!! I so appreciate and love the support I get here, I can’t thank you all enough! Much love to you all!
Your story of finding out the truth is so much like my own… I had to keep reading!
I love that the suit didn’t retire…
Oh, I just loved this story, Kathy. I still feel guilty for finally telling my kids. It was much like your situation where my youngest REALLY wanted me to tell him the truth. Unlike you though, I could tell he already knew it in his heart. I swore I would never tell the truth, but I could tell he really want to know. I said the same things your mom did to you, that Santa was a real person and that he still exists in our hearts. I never thought about how maybe my boys LIKE being part of the grown-up truth now, so that helps. Thanks for a great story!
Oh, I just loved this story, Kathy. I still feel guilty for finally telling my kids. It was much like your situation where my youngest REALLY wanted me to tell him the truth. Unlike you though, I could tell he already knew it in his heart. I swore I would never tell the truth, but I could tell he really want to know. I said the same things your mom did to you, that Santa was a real person and that he still exists in our hearts. I never thought about how maybe my boys LIKE being part of the grown-up truth now, so that helps. Thanks for a great story!
I remember the disappointment that first Christmas that I KNEW. Awful.
As a mom, I wanted to help my kids avoid that disappointment. When our oldest figured it out — he used logic. Santa cannot come through a fireplace that has no chimney, but merely a gas vent — we made a big deal out of his wisdom. We filled him in on the “heart” and “spirit” of Santa, and then we deputized him as one of Santa’s elves, explaining the importance of helping us be Santa to his little brother.
He even helped shop for his brother’s Santa present.
Christmas morning, as we opened gifts, his eyes sparkled with delight, much like I think Santa’s would as he proudly watched his little brother’s excitement over the present Santa brought. He thoroughly loved being a deputy elf — perhaps more than he loved Santa.
Today, he still brings magic to our Christmases. 🙂
What an awesome story. Your parents sound so awesome! What a cool tradition you guys had! I’m jealous!
Though I have to admit I couldn’t help but thinking about how freaking exhausted your parents must have been Christmas day. LOL That’s one late night!
I still remember when I found out about Santa too. I was in the mall and it was Christmas time. We were in a store when I decided to confront my mom and tell her I wanted the truth. I remember feeling just how you did and was shocked when she told me otherwise. My family didn’t have quite the tradition you did, but they did love Christmas. We’d listen to Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, etc and bake cookies and decorate the tree. It was always so much fun. I definitely remember it fondly. 🙂
What a special memory! I was the youngest so my sisters had to keep the idea alive for me for quite some time. Isn’t it funny how we can remember the good and bad side of finding out. I will never forget that I was so devastated that I was such a good girl all year and Santa did not bring me what I asked for. I could not understand for the life of me why I had not earned the barbie house. It was in my fear and worry that my Mom had to tell me there was no Santa and the mall was sold out. While it was rough to learn at the same time it was such a lesson knowing and being told in that moment that I had been a good girl!
I love this post! I still remember when I found out Santa wasn’t real too but it’s almost like believing all over again with my 3yr old now. Some of that magic is back for sure.
TY for stopping by my blog 🙂 I’m glad I got to come see your site.