Dear Santa Clase

As Mr. Ives and Mr. Crosby were singing their holiday tunes, Ella was writing something on a piece of paper in the kitchen while I was folding 700lbs of laundry and Emme was caterwauling her own melodies. Ella folded the paper, placed it in an envelope, and sealed it with a sticker and a bow. On the front, she wrote, Dear Santa Clase. (Sic.) (Word also recognizes the typo.)

Ella said, “Daddy I wrote a letter for Santa.”

“That’s great!” I replied. “How are we going to send it to him?”

She countered, “I’ll give it to Elf on the Shelf and he can bring it to him tonight.”

Shit.

And that’s why I’m writing this now.

You see, I am Santa Clase to these little girls. Amanda is also Santa, because girls can do anything now. In fact, sometimes she identifies as Santa when we make love. It’s more for me than her. But I digress.

Playing the role of Santa required me to steal the letter from the clutches of Elf, re-seal the envelope so as not to give away my malfeasance, and read it while they were in the bath. It goes like this:

                Dear Santa,

Thank You so much for sending bubble gum. I just asking if you can give us anouther elf on the shelf. And how did you become Santa? Can you tell me how. And a big big thank you for giving children gifts every year it must be hard to do it before the sunrise.

Love: Ella Thrawl

Well that’s fucking adorable. (And what bubble gum? Oh, shit. Bubble gum is the name the girls gave Elf.) And it’s full of wonder and gratitude. And now I get to write a letter back to her in the words of Santa theyself.

Since I can't figure out how to download a Santa letterhead template and type on it, I'll just write out what I'm thinking here, and hand-write her letter for Elf to give her tomorrow.




         Dear Ella,
You're welcome for Bubble Gum! He is one of a kind, and we only make one for each family so there are no extras. He has been telling me a lot of funny stories about you and your family. You must have a crazy dog, and maybe a very energetic little sister. He tells me you are doing really well for the most part. You need to keep listening to your parents, and helping out wherever you can.

I guess I've always been Santa. I can't recall a time when I wasn't. It certainly goes back well before the Bible indicates that time started... So think about that.

And you are welcome! It is a tough job getting to all of the houses before the sun comes up, but I have a lot of help from the elves and the reindeer. Donald, Vixen, Simon, Theodore, etc.

Ella, you are a good little girl, and it sounds like you already have a tree full of presents. I hope you have a merry Christmas, and if you keep being the wonderful kid you are, your tree will be even more magical in two weeks.

I have to go, we have a lot of work left to do!

Love,
Santa


Now, I probably will leave out a few of those sentences, but that's the gist of it.

This Christmas, the tree is full, the house is happy, and the girls will have everything they want. I am seriously in awe of what this little life has become since I left the cage. This is the life I wondered if I could have. 2019, aside from several funerals, is the best year I've lived as my new self. I can't wait to see what 2020 has in store for us.

Good night,

Santa Clase

Never Gave Up

I did it. I successfully deep fried a 23lb turkey without burning a house down. It took some measuring, a dry turkey, and some patience while dropping it into the vessel. It was glorious, and the result was a fantastic, crispy-skinned bird that had a nutty sweetness to it unlike a traditional turkey. I made some black garlic mashed potatoes, glazed Brussels sprouts, and played around with a charcuterie board. Overall it was a great afternoon with some wonderful neighbors and our nuclear family.

I did miss my monthly opportunity to bring a meeting to the McLeod County jail, but there are many important factors that swayed my decision to stay put. There will be many more 4^th Thursday’s of the month, and I will be sure to get there as often as I can because, well, it makes me feel really good when I walk out of there. Not just because I’m entering and leaving a jail without handcuffs, but because of what I glean from those incarcerated men and women. They have a perspective on recovery that I can relate to, and I can truly say that I understand what they are currently going through. Every time I go, there are different people there which always makes me wonder where the last batch went. I assume some have gone to prison, some back home, and maybe some have stayed sober, and probably some have not. But I can tell you that when a person is locked up, they speak a lot of truths about themselves that probably would remain hidden under a canopy of addiction. When there’s nowhere to go, people tend to let more out. When people are at the end of a road that got them arrested, and willing enough to go to an A.A. meeting with a stranger, they somehow feel comfortable letting things out that they have been holding onto, and with that torrent comes the flood, and then a glimmer of hope and happiness.

I remember the first time I felt hope in a long time, a long time ago now. It was at an A.A. meeting in prison, and I was with a group—obviously—of guys that were hardened criminals, had lost everything, had no connections to their families, etc. The moderator, who was a volunteer, said he had been in the same boat years earlier, and felt hopeless. He said there was nothing he thought he could ever do to lead a normal life, and that he wanted to stay locked up forever. But he didn’t. He kept going to meetings, worked up the courage to write letters, reconnected with his family, and so it began: life. I listened in awe. My story was not identical, but there were certainly things I thought impossible, and things I didn’t think I could have or do. I wondered what I could accomplish. So I decided not to be lazy, and commit to going through the boot camp program. And I never gave up.

And here I am, five years later, with everything I need, a lot of what I want, and a willingness to help others do the same. That’s the message I want people in these jail meetings to hear. With a lot of hard work, all is possible.

That’s my short story of the day, it’s time to go make dinner for these two little girls, and wait for my wife to walk through the door of our home.

Fuck yeah.