I believe in Santa Claus

I still believe in Santa Claus.
Sometimes in my head I drift back to the past and suddenly it's warm there and I'm safe there. I'm 6 and its Christmas morning and Santa just brought me a duck on wheels and I'm looking at it wondering why my wedding dress doll isn't there instead and my mother is banging saucepans in the kitchen and my brothers and sisters are arguing over something stupid and Daddy shouts at us to whisht up and get ready for mass and the world is ok. I haven't lost anyone and my heart is not broken with grief and I'm not lonely and in the madness to get us ready for mass I catch my mothers eye and she looks tired and I think nothing of it. I'm 6 what do I know to care.
And that moment is forgotten and I'm back in our kitchen and there's a basin of stuffing on the table and a dead bird and the stuffing is being shoved into the bird and I'm scratching my head to figure out why so I ask Mammy and she wipes her hands on her apron and throws me out of the kitchen so I go out to the garden and I pull my duck on wheels around the yard behind me and in the kitchen window I Mammy again, smiling but tired.
Was she tired or am I seeing a memory I didn't understand then.....
Phantom flashes of yesterday haunt sometimes.
It's almost dinner and I'm starving and there's sweets and biscuits waiting to be ate and we never got sweets and biscuits during the year and I want them and Willie Wonka is on and I climb onto the couch with about 4 other sisters and suddenly my heart is full and the memory makes me want to cry. Should I cry.... then Daddy stretches on the armchair and I can see him staring as us and he looks tired but he just looks at us.... looking back it's because we were so silent and content and he had peace and Mammy calls us and we run and pull each other back and there's so many people and I can't sit at the adult table coz there are so many people and the noise is incredible and the food is amazing and I'm not lonely and no one has died and everyone is there.
The heartache of Christmas will reach me someday but I'm 6 and I don't know that so I pull crackers and eat too much and fight against eating Brussels sprouts and long for the sweets and biscuits under the tree and why isn't dinner over so I can have some sweets....
But I'm no longer 6 and I've seen death and lonely and hurt and people who don't get to fight over getting ready for mass and yet the memory of Christmas as a child never leaves me and I wait for Santa Claus every year because he comes and for a moment everything is ok and I put Brussels Sprouts on the plates for my children even though they hate them and they'll eat them because they know... They know how much I believe in Santa and the power of memories....
And somewhere in the background Mammy will fill the basin with stuffing and Daddy will stretch in the armchair and stare at us....
And neither of them will be tired....

Because it's Christmas and I love them......

Valerie Masters