I was in the fifth grade. I knew. Of course I knew! But for some reason hearing my daddy confirm to me that Santa wasn’t real busted a big ole hole in my tender little heart.
I had found a tiny envelope with a few teeth in my mother’s chest of drawers the summer before my fifth grade year and it dawned on me then that the tooth fairy wasn’t all she was cracked up to be. I didn’t have a big love for the tooth fairy anyway. A magical creature that sneaks into your bedroom at night to harvest your discarded body parts is just creepy with a capital K. I found the teeth and I knew immediately about the tooth fairy. The rest happened in stages. I dismissed the Easter Bunny next. I mean a bunny that hides eggs seems a little off on a good day. I didn’t say anything though.
Santa fell harder. Santa Claus was Christmas. All of the grown ups wore shirts that said “I believe” you don’t see people walking around in tooth fairy shirts! The “if you stop believing he will stop coming” mantra rolled over and over in my head.
My Grannie told me a story about seeing Santa in real life when she was a kid every year. She was asleep on the couch because she had a fever and she woke up when Santa came. My Grannie would never lie to me.
In the fourth grade a little girl from a less privileged household told me Santa wasn’t real. I told maybe Santa stopped coming to her house because she quit believing and because Santa don’t like ugly and she was acting ugly. I was totally convinced that she was wrong and I was right. My faith was strong. I still feel bad about that today.
I knew the truth when my Daddy said what he said. I had known it for a while... but, hearing him confirm it broke my heart. I cried and cried when I got back home that night. I knew something had changed. I knew there was something about Christmas that I would never get back. That child like excitement, that belief in magic without seeing was gone. That made me sad. I mourned my childhood for a few days but then what my daddy said sunk in. “You’ve got to keep the secret now. Don’t tell your brother.”
I realized then that it was my responsibility to keep my brother believing in the magic. It was up to me to make his Christmas magical. I was in on the big conspiracy now and I had responsibilities. That realization softened the blow a bit.
When I had children of course I propagated the same delusions. It was fun when they were little. The tooth fairy was never my favorite. Too much stress with her. At least Santa only comes one night a year. And he leaves presents in a separate room and doesn’t bother anyone. That damned tooth fairy makes being a parent hard work.
One by one they figured it out. I always told each of them by their fifth grade Christmas. Sam was first and he took it like a champ. He was always wise for his age though. I think he had had it figured out for a while hefore I let him know. Nolan was next after the tooth fairy had forgotten to get his tooth FOUR days in a row. (Mom of the year here!) He was harder than Sam because he didn’t lump them all together right away. The tooth fairy isn’t real, yes, but what about the Easter bunny? What about Santa??? What about snoopy (our elf)???? That was hard on this mama.
Today I told my baby girl. The tooth fairy had forgotten her last night and she had lots of questions. I could tell she was on to me. She would ask “why didn’t the tooth fairy get my tooth” I would say “I don’t know, why do you think?” She’s shrug and get thoughtful. When she got home from school she asked me again. I replied the same and she said “I know it’s you.” I told her I thought that she had figured it out and she giggled. It was at that moment that I knew I was going to have to break her heart.
I asked, “so do you have any questions about any other magical late night visitors?”
I saw the cloud fall over her face. I witnessed the end of her childhood innocence. It fell like a curtain across her face. She didn’t cry though. She said “I know you are Santa too”. I said “yes I am. And I’m snoopy too. But you can’t tell anyone. You have to keep the secret” she nodded and we were home and she got out of the car.
1 hr and 45 minutes later it hit her. Full on ugly crying and some hyperventilating. It was heart breaking. She said she knew but hearing me say it made it real. My child was mourning and I was responsible.
Eventually she calmed down and now she’s fine. She’s excited about knowing the truth around her younger cousins and friends. She will be ok.
I’m not ok.
She was my last one. Christmas will not be the same for our little family now.. There won’t be anymore magic or mystery. It won’t be the same and I’m sad. I’m sad that my babies aren’t babies anymore and I’m said that I’m not the 10 year old kid in the caprice classic wagon two seconds before daddy confirmed what I already knew. I’m just sad.
But Emily made me better. I told her I was sad and she said, “well we will still have fun celebrating Jesus’s birthday no matter what.”
That one tiny sentence confirmed that the magic was still there. My baby knows without a doubt that Jesus is real and He is Alive and That He LOVES her. The loss of Santa in her mind did not for one second shake her faith in Jesus. She knows he is real and she knows he is coming back for her one day.
I hope you know that He loves you and is coming back for you too!
