Obi Wan Claus, One Year Edit

I wrote this post last year.  As an exercise/easy post of the day I decided a long overdue prune was in order.  Here is the original post.

My childhood love of all things Christmas has followed me throughout my life.  From the Dolly Madison commercials that accompanied the Charlie Brown Christmas on CBS, to the waiting for the arrival of the pink advent candle: the harbinger that Christmas was close, I have been all in.

My great love for Christmas allowed me to be blinded to some of the hardened adult truths of the holiday for far longer than most people, namely that there was no Santa Claus. The easy joke my Dad loves is that I was 16 when my parents told me. I was not that naive for that long, at least in that respect.  The best guess places me around 8 when my parents dropped the cruel veil.  I know, I know, still a little too old.  What can I say? I was a boy with deep faith in his parents.

It makes sense (to this born again Star Wars geek)  that reflecting on the revelation evokes Star Wars in my still wounded head and heart.  Many of my fondest childhood Christmas memories were in front of  a Death Star or die-cast Hoth play set. When thinking about my parents explanation for their prevarication it hit me: they went straight Obi Wan logic at me. They had not lied,  it was true…from a certain point of view. “Santa was the spirit of Christmas,they had the spirit of Santa in them”…blah, blah, yada, yada.

As the story goes, and I have no reason to doubt my parents,or do I?—Stinkin’ liars.

Obi Wan's Original Rationalization, favorite tool of my parents.

This newly broken boy went to room to deal with this new reality, ten minutes passed.

I then came down, looked my parents in the eyes and asked, “Does this mean there is no Easter Bunny?”  It was all they could do from help losing it.  Their son would not shake his faith in his parents that easily.  Bombshell two delivered, same rational, same spirit crushing look on my face.

I again trudged off again, always waiting for the next cruel truth to be exposed.  No, I did not return to ask about the Tooth Fairy.

When I became a father a few years ago there were mental lists of the things I would look forward to: my child’s first ice cream, watching Star Wars with them for the first time, and suffering along my progeny as the Bills broke our collective hearts. Right there on the list was lying to them and buying gifts for them under the alias of a four hundred year old obese shut in elf.

Despite my bad memories of my parents scam on me I never questioned the thought, “Do I not continue building up a joyful myth that I know ends with betrayal and disillusionment?”

No, I stepped in and followed the family tradition and lied like a Jedi.  I know there will be consequences down the road, but in the meantime there is a lot of joy in watching my kids happiness Christmas morning with the detachment of the gifts not being from their parents but as a reward for being good kids*.

My wish is that when the reveal time comes that some Jedi powers came with my Obi Wan logic: (wave of my hand in front if the kids) “this is not the parent you are looking for, your mom wanted to pose as Santa”

*James is testing this, though the PNP did help.  More on that tomorrow.

Obi Wan Claus

I have always loved Christmas.  Since the time I was a kid I have enjoyed every aspect of the holiday.  From the Dolly Madison commercials that accompanied the Charlie Brown Christmas on CBS, to the waiting for the arrival of the pink advent candle: the harbinger that Christmas was close, I have been all in.

In loving Christmas so much I allowed myself to be blinded to some of the hardened adult truths of the holiday, namely that there was no Santa Claus. The easy joke would be that I was 16 when my parents told me.  No, I was not that naive for that long, at least in that respect.  I imagine I was somewhere around 8 when my parents told me.  I know, I know, still a little too old.  What can I say? I was a boy with deep faith in his parents.

I suppose that it makes sense that the revelation evokes Star Wars.  Many of my fondest Christmas memories were in front of  a Death Star or die-cast Hoth play set. When the time came to drop the hammer on me my parents went straight Obi Wan logic at me.

They had not lied,  it was true…from a certain point of view. “Santa was the spirit of Christmas,they had the spirit of Santa in them”…blah, blah, yada, yada.

I was in shock, I knew at that moment that my childhood was starting a slow painful unravel with more hidden truths of life on the way.

As the story goes, and I have no reason to doubt my parents,or do I?—Stinkin’ liars. But the story goes I went up to my room for a bit.  I then came down, looked my parents in the eyes and asked, “Does this mean there is no Easter Bunny?”  It was all they could do from help losing it.  Their son would not shake his faith in his parents that easily.  I trudged off a broken boy.  No, I did not return to ask about the Tooth Fairy.

When I became a father a few years ago I of course had mental lists of the things I would look forward to: my child’s first ice cream, watching Star Wars with them for the first time, suffering along my progeny as the Bills broke our collective hearts. And of course right there on the list was lying to them and buying gifts for them under the alias of a four hundred year old obese shut in elf.

Despite my bad memories of my parents scam on me I never thought, “Do I not continue building up a joyful myth that I know ends with betrayal and disillusionment?”

No, I stepped in and followed the family tradition and lied like a Jedi.  I know there will be consequences down the road, but in the meantime there is a lot of joy in watching my kids happiness Christmas morning with the detachment of the gifts not being from Nicole and I.

I only wish that when the reveal time comes that some Jedi powers came with my Obi Wan logic: (wave of my hand in front if the kids) “this is not the parent you are looking for, your mom wanted to pose as Santa”