Skip to main content

There is a Santa Claus!!

I know because I have seen Santa not once, but twice, waving along Rt. 60.  I even embarrassed Barbie, Jr. by honking at him and shouting HI SANTA out the window.

This year Barbie, Jr. is at that age where she's skeptical.  I came across a pretty neat website where you can make a personalized video and send it to your child.  The look in her eyes as she watched it was priceless.  Even better was after the video was over she says to me, "MOM! I think Santa's been creeping on me on Facebook!"  But it took me back to when I was her age.

My grandfather, Dr. Harold E. Ward, was a professor at Marshall University. When he began at Marshall, it was still known as Marshall College.  He was probably one of the smartest people I ever known.  I was only fifteen when he passed and I wish I had been able to learn more from him.

As I was growing up, I recall many times that he would take my cousins and I to his annual Christmas party at school.  And every year, Santa would be there.  I would see him and tell him what I wanted.  As I mentioned, I was probably around my daughter's age when I became skeptical.  I questioned everything about Santa, and my grandfather was hell bent on making me continue to believe.  So as usual, we got dressed up and attended the Christmas party.  This particular year I recall my grandfather asking me to hand deliver a special gift to Santa.  I did as asked and I believe Santa gave me a gift in return.  I don't remember the details but there was something about that visit that made me realize, he indeed was really Santa Claus.

Even after I quit believing, I continued to attend the parties.  The last one I remember attending I believe was the last Christmas my grandfather was with us.  He had retired by then and was teaching at the southern branch of Ohio University at that time.  Imagine my surprise when Santa Claus was there as well.  There was still something about him that made my heart happy.

It was September 1991, when we lost my grandfather and about 6 years later, while having a discussion with my mom that I realized finally who Santa had been. Santa had been my grandfather's dear friend Dr. Sam Clagg. I recall he would usually come visit with us at these parties, or sit at our table, and managed to slip off unnoticed.

I have thought about that story many times through the years.  I've seen Mr. Clagg out a few times as the years have passed and have wanted to shout SANTA!  Although, he would have no clue who I was.  But for now, wherever he is, I'd like to thank him for renewing a little girl's faith in the Christmas spirit and for giving the woman she's grown up to be such lovely childhood Christmas memories.  And to my papaw, who I know is looking down on me every day, I love you and I miss you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Look What the Cat Dragged In

 It's been a hot minute huh?  1,312 days to be exact.  Yes, I gave it a goog. I've been back several times but words escaped me.  Nothing would come out.  I was in a bad place for a long time.  But after a whole lot of patience, many prayers, and the support of my family and friends, I made it.  And it's worked out well for all of us.  We moved early this year into a cute little house.  Just me and my kids. My little guy, we will call him Felix, he's happier and has been a champ with the change.  He gets the best of both worlds.  Barbie Jr, she's been a Godsend.  I don't know what I would have done without her. There have been differences in ending a relationship vs. divorce (obviously).  Ins and outs.  But this time around, I can actually say Felix's father and I are doing pretty well at this co-parenting thing.  Which is an odd situation for me given what I went through with Ken.  But even that part is going well. Barbie Jr. graduated from high school in M

Kindness goes a long way

My last post was about how I refused to be irrelevant. I posted it the day before my 42nd birthday.  It was and is a phrase that has stuck with me.  I haven't blogged since, although I have been planning to. So months later, here On my birthday I received an anonymous gift of a beautiful Edible Arrangement with the attached card: I want whoever you are to know, I carry this with me in my wallet every single day.  I have a few special things that I keep with me always, a drawing Savannah did, a poem she wrote me to tell me everything would be fine when her dad and I were in an ugly custody battle, and now this.  Whoever you are, your kind gesture holds a spot among the most treasured things I carry with me day in and day out.  I take it out when I am having an especially down day to remind myself that I do matter.  That I am relevant. Yesterday was one of those days.  I was feeling down, unloved, unappreciated, so I took the note out and read it. And through my tears of frustr

I refuse to be irrelevant.

After insisting to my friends at work that I had *tried* to watch "Grace and Frankie" I discovered that I lied.  I had watched maybe 15 minutes of the show.  So I gave it a second chance.  I'm about halfway through the first season and something the character Grace said hit me like a ton of bricks.  "I refuse to be irrelevant." I. Refuse. To. Be. Irrelevant. To me it is a powerful statement.  And one I need to relate to more.  Because I can so related to feeling irrelevant these days.  I feel like I don't matter.  I mean of course, there are people I matter to, and others who make me feel irrelevant.  Who make me feel like my presence doesn't matter.  And I blame myself. Tomorrow is my birthday and I don't even care.  I've always been all woohoo, my birthday is coming up.  This year? I could care less.  It's a Tuesday.  I have zero expectations.  I'm sure people on Facebook will wish me happy birthday, but otherwise, it just feels l