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

I refuse to sink...

I actually got the line "I refuse to sink" off a picture of a tattoo on Facebook. But it's fitting for the way I feel right now. I feel like I'm sinking, sinking, sinking. Financially, mentally, physically, emotionally, any way possible. The financial issues are probably the stem of all the other issues. I don't know how many people have told me, just don't worry, God will provide. I'm a Christian, but I suspect when the day comes that they come to shut off my electric or cable or water that they are going to want cold hard cash, not a sermon. And forgive me, I don't mean to mock God but I'm just cynical right now. The weeks I have Barbie, Jr. are pretty good, aside from last week when we were sick. But she keeps me busy, she keeps me sane. The weeks like this, when she's gone I'm lost, lonesome, sad. I'm tired of being a doormat. Someone's last thought. Their option. Tired of not standing up for myself whether it be ...

No more Mister Nice Girl

Clearly I realize the title of this blog is incorrect but it made me laugh.  So I've been reading this book that Big Sister Barbie bought for me over the weekend.  It's about how to break out of the "nice girl syndrome".  She didn't pick it out for me, I picked it out and she said, "You need this.  I'm buying it for you." And wow, it really hits home. I can relate to so much in that book. For instance, I'm finding I become too nice when it comes to relationships.  And the result is Barbie Girl = doormat. I don't think it's too much to ask for a little attention.  I don't think it's too much to ask for the occasional night out on the town.  I don't think it is too much to ask to just hold me for a little while rather than spend a token 2 hours with me and then rush off.  It's my choices most likely.  And my not standing up for what I deserve. So for future reference, here's what I want out of a relationship: res...

Mirror, mirror

Not a day goes by that I don't think about my ex-husband and what transpired between us 2 years ago. Every day when I look at myself in the mirror, I am reminded of what happened that day.  A day that opened my eyes and showed me what I needed to do. Oddly enough, even though I think about it every single day, this year, the date passed and I didn't even realize it until today.  I'd like to think it's because I have put all that behind me.  At least, I hope that's what it is.  I've come a long way since that day. I'm a different person now than I was, but one thing has become abundantly clear to me, I am not so sure I like the person I have started to become. There have been many things over the past couple of years I am not proud of.  I've done some pretty stupid things while trying to soul search and find myself.  Yeah, we all make mistakes.  My problem? I keep making them.  The biggest thing I dislike about myself is my apparent inabili...