Oh Grief, you silly companion, you’re still hangin around huh?

This post won’t just be about that, I don’t think, but there’ve been a few thoughts swirling in my mind that I need to get out.

The other day, we decided to eat out for dinner – my 11 year old says to me as we’re getting out of the car,

“So, Santa was a real person, right?”

Then he paused as he walked around the back of the car to meet me.

“St. Nicholas?” he continued.

I wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was going so I just kept nodding, “Mmmhmmm.”

Then he said, “St. Nicholas was a real live person long ago, so Santa Claus used to be an actual person.”

Once I caught on, that he might have been gently informing me that he no longer believed in Santa Claus, I attempted to respond in a way that was much better than how I handled it with me eldest (a story for another time, I suppose?).

“Yes, Santa does exist still in spirit. He’s still around, he just inspires people to be generous and give kids presents at Christmas. You might not be seeing the original Santa Claus, but he’s still around.”

And that was that. We got to the restaurant and had dinner and didn’t talk about it again. My eldest didn’t even chime in to support this information or give a snarky retort – which I was thankful for.

What I said to N about Santa being an actual thing, just maybe not physically felt more sincere to me then than it had ever had before.

Maybe I just need to believe this. Maybe it’s part of the grief. Maybe it is a universal truth.

Maybe it’s all of those things.

Both Dad and my cousin Chatt passed away last year and I miss them both terribly and cry about them pretty regularly still, but I still see remnants of their existence around me.

They’re gone, but also, they never left.

And perhaps, that’s the painful part of it all.

Dad is here in my smirk. He’s there in my playfulness with children. He’s there in the way I speak and struggle communicating with my eldest. He’s there in the way my youngest and I snuggle and are sweet with each other.

Chatt is with me in my bold decisions, in my wanderlust yearnings to travel somewhere new. I hear her when I send imaginary texts to her to snark about random things throughout the day. She’s there when I blast songs I sing to solo in my car. She was there when I remembered to call on my cousin to come with me to watch a band I’ve recently fallen in love with. She reminds me daily to live my life to the fullest and not waste a single moment.

They’re gone but they never really left.

As long as we remember them.

Kinda like Santa.