Dear Santa...

So it's Christmas Eve here in the Beehive state. I wanted to write to you and wish you good travels, filled with hot chocolate, freshly baked cookies, and no fires left burning in those chimneys you have to shuffle down. And of course I thought I'd send you a line to let you know what I want for Christmas.

This year was a difficult one Santa. I was desperately trying to find the spirit of Christmas. It was difficult with the limited funds I had accessible to me. I watched all the commercials and realized I wouldn't be able to purchase that soft body sweater for my friends, nor would my father be getting the new car that I know he would highly enjoy. No diamonds or gift certifacates for the Ma. And well, chocolate was just out of the question. So I sat gloomy, thinking where did the Christmas spirit go?

I thought back to being a kid and tried with all my might to think of a new toy I would want from you. It went between a slinky to hop down my bedroom stairs to a replacement of the Rock Star Barbie you gave me back when I was eight. But neither really seemed right.

And then I put together my cookie party and something unexpected happened. I realized it wasn't the gifts that made Christmas, but the feeling that you want to do things for the people you care about in life and being able to sit and share in a bit of celebrated conversation with them. It's not the need to boost the economy, but celebrate in all the gifts given to you through out the year that aren't purchased but merely the joys of living.  It's doing the best at what you can do, and not feeling as though you need to push things. It's about the laughter--the laughter friends have that makes them laugh so hard they cry (miss b. you know I'm talking of you).

So Santa, I just want to say thanks. Thanks this year for the gifts you gave me before the day of Christmas. Thanks for the time with my family, for the the experience of showing them the city I live in during this lighted season. Thanks for the giddy laughter over dinner as my Dad extended his fork to my Mom with a pecan on it saying, "Just try this, it's delicious, it's soft... It's impregnated with sugar." Where that line came from, I'll never know, but I cherish those moments. I cherish the images too. The photos of my family (wishing of any gift, that my sister was with us here too--though I'm sure she is giddy with the two boys in California's warm weather). Thanks for the memories of past Christmases and all the family comedy that has followed. Thanks for awaking my heart to tell the people I care for how amazing they are (because lets face it--you all ROCK), and how much I value each and everyone of them in my life. And thanks for somehow letting my parents cats and my cats know, that a cat fight in my tiny apartment would not be a good way to show the Christmas spirit. Thanks for all you do Santa. Thanks for the gift of the season.

Safe travels tonight. I'll be listening for your sleigh bells as I always do. And just so you know, no matter how old I get... I will always believe in you.

Merry Christmas to all out there, may you have sugar plum dreams...

D.dot