Dear Santa
Dear Santa,
So, maybe I haven’t been good exactly. And maybe I’m not exactly on the nice list. I tried though. I really did. This year, I’ve said some things that I regret, I’ve done some things I’m not entirely proud of. I have. And I’m not sure I’m not going to do and say those things again. I don’t know much anymore.
But I do know what Christmas is about. And it’s not really about Jesus, and it’s certainly not about presents. It’s about my family. Yes, that’s corny, cliche, whatever you like, but it’s true.
I love my family so much. I do. I sometimes think about what I’d do if one of them died, and even just thinking about it makes me fracture around the edges and cry. No, we don’t always get along. And no, I don’t always say nice things about them. But I love my Mommy and Daddyand Denise and Lizzy and Joseph and Chris and Michelle and Jen and Momal and Nana and Sockmouth. Everyone. They are what make Christmas.
Yesterday, I was writing my Christmas list and it was a struggle. As I get older, every year, writing a Christmas list seems more and more frivolous, fading into the warm archives of childhood. Because what I really want, more than a Kindle or embroidery floss or coconut deodorant, is for my family and friends to be happy and healthy. I want that more than anything that can be put on a Kaboodle list.
Santa, my family makes Christmas. I mean, you’re great. But they MAKE Christmas.
I don’t know if I deserve anything I put on my list, really, I don’t. I keep using my letters to you as New Year’s Resolution sort of things, but I’m not sure if I’ve been successful so far. I try, though. I’ll always try my best to not just get on the Nice list, but earn my place there.
Love you.
Merry Christmas, and give my regards to Mrs. Claus and the reindeer.
Best,
RJ
December 3rd, 2011Topic: Life, Ramblings Tags: family, Life
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