Home > Family, Home, Life Lessons > My bladder’s been close to my eyes today…

My bladder’s been close to my eyes today…

Maybe it’s the season, maybe it’s the weather…

Who knows what has been in the air lately, but I’ve been missing my daddy.

A week or so ago I got the strongest urge to call him. I’m not even sure I had something important to say to him. I just missed being able to call him.

A few days after that, my cousin posted a photo of her adorable daughter with Santa on Facebook. She mentioned that Santa had acquired a Southern accent.

I knew what my father would have said, and I replied back.

“Santa speaks to each and every child in the world in the language they are most familiar with.” (This was Dad’s explanation for Santa’s handwriting looking a lot like his.)

Today, I read this blog about Santa and his existence.

At paragraph 7, I got a little misty.

Right around paragraph 10 I nearly lost it completely.

Perhaps it’s through the traditions of Santa that make Christmas so much about the family and how parents and children celebrate. Or perhaps that’s just the case for me and my mom and dad.

I wouldn’t be super upset if I didn’t get to spend Easter or Thanksgiving with my mother, but I am cherishing this next Christmas because of the possibility of it being my last Christmas with her. No, I’m not expecting her to die. But I feel like it will all change when I get married.

Charles thinks I’m insane. What’s going to change about Christmas just because I’m married? But it won’t be the same ever again.

I won’t go to midnight Mass, just Mom and I, at Sacred Heart where they turn off all the lights and play Silent Night on the violin while we both try to hide our sniffling and tears (trust me, it’s beautiful and moving and we’re not the only snifflers!). I won’t be going home to our house to spend the night. I won’t be waking up there, that morning, with her, to open the stockings that are from “Santa.”

Sure, Charles and I could visit and do these things, but it seems that once I get married, we should have our own traditions. And even if we do these things with Mom, it still just won’t be the same. Yes. Maybe I’m over 30. But I still see getting married as a mark that I’m becoming an adult, and that certain things are going to change.

He'll hate me for posting this one! But he was always eager to try on or try our presents.

Christmas for me will always be full of memories of me, my mom, and especially my dad. It was him who wrote us the letters from Santa. It was his childhood photo with Santa that was set out on the piano every year. I feel like it was him who was always the first to remind us of the real reason we celebrated Christmas if ever our gift-giving intentions got out of hand.

And so, to end my day where my thoughts have been on all things Christmas and very much about my dad…my boss shared with the office a thank you letter we received from a writer who spoke at the University last year.

Most people didn’t notice, but I had the eye for it.

The letter, like so many of my father’s letter, was typed on a type writer.

In between the lines of the writer’s words of thanks and praise, I could see the care one has to take to type a letter.

The care with which my father typed every letter he wrote.

And the care with which told every story about Santa, his spirit, his love, and his magic.

  1. December 15, 2011 at 5:29 pm

    An Old Chinese Proverb says, They who Honour There Father/Parents Honour Themselves. I Enjoyed reading this.
    Christmas can be Bad for A lot of People and the State of the World, of Humanity,The stats are probably Going To INCREASE Unfortunatley.
    Maybe One Day we will All Enjoy The Festive Season No Matter of your Creed And the walk of Life You Hail from.

    Peace x

  1. December 19, 2011 at 12:25 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: