Well Christmas is finally here. Its the first year my eight year old son said he didn't believe in Santa.
But he wanted us to set the video camera up just it case.
This morning after emptying his stocking he asked me if I put all those presents in there. "Yep" I said. Not thinking. A look of realization washed over his face. That was when I knew it had really sunk in that there was no Santa Claus.
Questions came flooding out after that. "So you and daddy were the ones that got my PSP for me that year. You guys got all those presents that said they were from Santa. Mamma you ate all those cookies every year?" Now why would he think I was the one who ate the cookies. It could have been his father.
Lets move on.
It was difficult knowing something that he had believed in 100% all those years was not true.
It saddened me.
But this is were being a writer is so wonderful. We take all those dreams and visions and turn them into a story we believe in. We have the chance to make others, if only for a short time, escape to a world of make believe, or open their eyes to something that might change them. We set the stage. They bring it to life as their own.
So always believe...in something. Its the only way we can make our dreams come true.