Bits & Pieces

A friend of mine told me that her father, who is in his eighties, has been writing his biography.  He has worked on this for several years; something to leave behind when he is gone.  As I'm driving to work the idea hits me; why couldn't I write one?  My life, at times, has been interesting; I could make it historically correct--bringing in world events that aligned with my life at the time.  Fascinating......So I begin:

I was born on a dark and stormy night weekday; with no pomp or circumstances to mark my arrival.  I was underweight with a severe case of jaundice; but still managed to be a gorgeous pretty baby.  Oh--9-27-60-the official date on my birth certificate; although sometimes I think I'm really younger--because mirrors don't lie.  But since my biography will be historically correct, we will stick with 9-27-60.

My next event I can recall occurred during my tenth year of life.  I can hear some of you inquiring as to why ten years have elapsed with no written record of their existence.  I can answer this:  I literally lived in a fantasy world of dolls, books, & make-believe of any kind.  I could cook the fanciest dinner using nothing but air and a plastic pot that was placed on a make-believe stove. My Barbies had a life that the Housewives of Orange County could only dream about living.  I fought more battles saving mankind than any action hero could fathom doing.  Alright--I think you get the picture.  Then something happened during that year that forever changed who I was.

It was a dark and stormy night weekday; I was cleaning my room when I hear my mother calling me.

"Victoria, I need you in the bathroom." yelled my mother.

"Okay mom, coming."  I replied.  Now in my family being called into the bathroom for a conference was a "big deal".  Something was going down and I didn't know if I wanted to be a part of it.   I walked in the bathroom where my mother was already waiting.

"Vickie, I have something to tell you because I think it's time."

Now mentally I'm going down the check-list:  facts of life were explained earlier that year (another chapter all by itself) so it couldn't be that.  Unless she had left something out--which I hope not because what I heard was enough to.... focus--focus--

"Okay--what's going on?"

She cleared her throat, "You will be going into seventh grade next year and there is something  I think you need to know."

What could it be?

"As I said you are starting seventh grade next year and well.....there is no Santa Claus."

The world began to spin, my brain was trying to comprehend this life shattering news my mother felt compelled to give me.

"What-what do you mean no Santa?  What about the cookies?  What about the special gift that was left for me--just from Santa?  Are you sure; because last year I could have sworn I heard him."

"I'm sure; I had to tell you.  I couldn't allow you to enter middle school thinking that Santa is real.  But don't tell your brother or sister--they still believe.  Oh and while we are on this subject--there is no Easter Bunny either."

Talk about kicking someone when they are down on the ground.  I took my new knowledge back to my room and ....I'll stop for now..recalling traumatic events are exhausting.

Fast forward to Christmas of this year, I received a book entitled Christmas Chronicles by Jeff Guinn.  It was a book written by Santa Claus!!  He wrote the book to tell his side of the story.  Unbelievable! 

Maybe I'll send a copy to my mother; after all you're never to old!