Dear Mr. Claus:

I don't really remember writing a letter to Santa Claus. I suppose I did it once. These days by the time most kids can write, the secret is out. I recall making lists of things I wanted and at least pretending to ask Santa for those things. Sometimes I got what I requested, sometimes I didn't. My parents did the best they could to make Christmas fun for my sisters and me.

If there really was a magical Santa Claus, this is what I would write to him:

Dear Mr. Claus,

I apologize for my lack of communication over the last 40 years. Somebody told me you weren't real, and unfortunately for both of us, I believed it to be true. I have since discovered that reality is mostly made up. So I am choosing a new path for this relationship, a path paved in belief and completely NOT contingent on truth.

I suppose I could  say I have been good this year;  however, the definition of "good" is rather subjective. What qualifies as good? If I behave well on the outside, and in my head and heart have no love for anyone or anything, was I good or bad?   To be honest, I rarely make my bed or vacuum the carpet which could be construed as being bad.  I think you might like to give some thought to how you define "good".  The fact is that I have done my dead level best to be responsible, and whether or not I have been good I can't really define. Have you thought about sending out some guidelines?

As a child, asking for what I wanted was easy. I had no idea what disappointment was, and I believed I deserved everything I wanted. All grown up, it's not so easy to ask. The voice in my head talks me out of deserving or expecting anything. Today, I won't let that voice win. My requests follow.

1.I have a friend that needs a kidney. I would give one up for her and  I can't qualify. I understand the ramifications of this request, the whole circle of life thing. I get that. So I rely on your magic more than science. I want my friend to live a really long time. She deserves it and so does the world she impacts. Maybe you could spare one yourself?

2. Please, make it possible for me to see my family more often. I miss them sometimes. Especially this time of year. Not too often, mind you, just enough for me not to feel like a foreigner. Maybe you loan me your transportation system a few times a year?

3. Can you please make it stop raining in the kitchen? I would love a roof that works. It doesn't have to be brand new. I would be super satisfied with a gently used roof as long as it didn't leak.

 4. Lastly I ask for a big dose of hope. In fact, if you can make that happen, I would forego the other stuff. Sometimes, I  have a hard time manufacturing it for myself. So having some in reserve would be so useful. I don't care how you package it or what it tastes like. If it's a pill I would swallow it or a drink I would gulp it up. Maybe, it could be something I wear or carry around in my sock.  And when life gets insane,  in that minute when I think there is none, I could just take a little of it with a side of Oreos and keep moving.

Thanks for taking time from your busy schedule to read my letter. May your deliveries go well this year. And if you need anything, please let me know. I am a great cook and can leave out much more than cookies and milk.

Sincerely,
Laura

P.S. The dogs will bark.  Throw them some biscuits that I will leave by the door and  they will shut up and love you.

2013, Sonic, Casey (RIP) , Pi

2014 , Pi 

2015, Sonic and Pi