The day that I realized Santa Claus did not exist was not a very momentous occasion for me. It was the middle of summer when I, matter of factually, confronted my mother. I almost told her, instead of asking, that Santa was not real and waited for her to confirm this, which she did. There was no huge let down, no sense of being bamboozled or lied to for years, but more of an understanding of all that my parents went through to make each Christmas special without asking for, or expecting anything in return. After coming to this revelation, I then decided to share my newfound knowledge with my best friend, who also happened to be my next-door neighbor and cousin. Still being young and naive, it did not occur to me that her being two years younger would make her take this huge revelation differently than myself. Unfortunately, she did not understand the sacrifice of her parents, nor why I was so happy and proud to have learned this. As she went running to her mother to ask if it was true, I learned a valuable lesson, not everyone can handle the cold hard truth. Revealing truths that have been long hidden should be handled with care as not everyone is ready or willing to accept reality yet.
Like your cousin, a neighbor told my youngest son there was no Santa. Tommy informed me that Vern had lied to him and that he knew Santa existed. He then took his older brother (by 22 months) into their bedroom and firmly closed the door. This being a crucial parenting moment I quietly crept to their door to hear what they were saying. Imagine my surprise when Tommy informed his brother in no uncertain terms that if they let us believe they thought there was no Santa, that they would receive less presents at Christmas. To this day he still talks about Santa as if he is real. Tom is now 25. Thanks for sharing. I love Santa moment of truth stories.
