Merry Christmas everyone! I know I need to get back in the habit of your twice (or more) a week blogs…life around the holidays is always so chaotic. This Christmas morning I thought I would share with you one of my favorite traditions that happened in our family every Christmas Eve without fail….Santa called each and every one of us cousins. I mean a real honest to goodness phone call. These are one of my favorite memories of Christmas and let me tell you why.
As a kid, there is nothing more magical than the thought of Santa coming. There is something so fascinating by the thought of this man you don’t know, coming into your house while you are sleeping and leaving you presents. Wait…as an adult, this sounds slightly terrifying. I don’t know if I necessarily want some strange fat man breaking and entering my home while I am sleeping to leave me presents. Would these be presents of a serial killer sort? I mean, am I going to wake up and find some severed head in my living room? Is Santa gonna turn out to be the SOTL Man and kidnap me to make his Fat Girl skinsuit finally? I guess I should be grateful that children don’t think like me or Santa would be quickly out of business. Let’s just go back to that magical thinking we had a children and forget Santa being a creeper and doing weird serial killer things that would bring the BAU from Criminal Minds into your house. Most children are thrilled by this sort of magic (and some adults…obviously not me) and it helps make the special quality that is Christmas.
So, in my family on Christmas Eve, the phone would ring and my Mom would answer it and smile and tell me Santa was on the phone. I would race over to the phone and breathlessly say hello….hearing jingle bells and a deep voice saying “Ho Ho Ho Kristann! This is Santa Claus! Have you been a good girl this year?” I was thrilled. Santa was calling me! He knew my name! He would listen as I told him things and encourage me to be good and go to bed as he would soon be there. I would agree and when the conversation was over, I would dance excitedly around the kitchen (inevitably twirling the long phone cord around me in my excitement) and hurry off to bed to be read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas and Santa Mouse by my Dad. The best part about Christmas with my big Irish family? All of us cousins soon realized that Santa called us all! We would all talk animatedly about our phone calls and we felt pretty special when our friends told us they didn’t get phone calls. I mean, Santa called all of us cousins every Christmas Eve without fail. It was super special to us and a memory I cherish from my childhood.
When I got older and learned about the truth of Santa (I must admit I was about 12 when I finally found out), I was confused about the phone calls. I mean, if Santa wasn’t real, then how did he call me and my cousins every Christmas Eve? I puzzled about this for quite some time before I asked my parents. My Dad smiled at me, pulled me into his lap, and whispered that it was really him that called all of the littles in our family. Every Christmas Eve. He would go to my Grandma’s house and call every one of us, making us all feel like the most special child in the world. Not once did I recognize my Dad’s voice. Not once did I even catch on that he disappeared for awhile on Christmas Eve to make those phone calls. My Dad made all of us cousins feel so special and so wonderful on Christmas Eve with those calls. Instead of being disappointed when he told me, I just asked that he continue to call all the littles including my baby brother and he did. I am sure all of my cousins can attest that those phone calls were some of our best memories of Christmas.
Even now, he still makes them to the littles in the family, including my god daughters and BFF’s god children. When I asked my Dad years ago to call BFF’s Grandpa’s house one Christmas Eve to talk to the littles there, he didn’t even hesitate and asked for the phone number and all the kids names that were there. I wasn’t sure if the two slightly older kids that were there still believed, but I gave him their names and ages anyways. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the phone rang, we put it on speaker and I heard jingle bells and this big booming voice saying “Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!” It brought a huge smile to my face and memories came flooding back of my own Santa calls. The littles in the room grew quiet, their eyes wide as Santa magically called them each by name and talk to them all. When the phone call was over, dancing around the living room were 3 happy little children and I quietly snuck off to call my Dad back and thank him. The next day, BFF’s cousin pulled me aside to give me a hug and thank me. Her daughter had started to question if Santa was real and after the phone call where Santa asked for her by name, the doubt was removed as she declared her love for Santa over and over on the ride home. See Dad…those calls are special I tell you…so thank you. Thank you for making our childhood Christmas memories something made of magic.
Merry Christmas dear readers. May you rediscover the magic of Christmas through this blog today and may you create some Christmas magic of your own. Bless each and every one of you and yours today!
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I did, however, remember some of the magic of Christmas and I thank my Dad for this today but I didn’t die. I am Fat Girl who Santa called personally every Christmas Eve without fail Running. The experiment continues…