"When you were little, your family called you the Christmas Kid.
You couldn't wait for the holidays to arrive.
How You loved the glitter of lights sparkling in the long night,
The way the tinsel swayed gently on the tree among your favorite ornaments.
There was nothing like that clean, woodsy smell of a real tree filling the house, mingled with
the warm aroma of whatever delectable goody was currently being baked in the oven.
The scents of Christmas were always your favorite.
The beginning of December marked an upcoming school vacation, of shared family time,
And of course the start of that dreadfully long wait until Santa's eventual visit to your chimney.
Your heart would race at these thoughts.
You would be filled with the deepest of smiles and with holiday light.
Hope.
Anything could happen at Christmas time,
and whatever did happen would be good."
I believed in the good things.
Why are we talking about this?
"Christmas Eve, and your mind would be overtaken by the thoughts of what would be lying under that tree.
Minutes would pass so painfully slow on that night.
You would toss and turn.
Eventually, you would always creep out of your bed and sneak down the stairs into the living room.
Had Santa arrived?
No, not yet.
You would then dejectedly skulk silently back to your bedroom for another hour until you could take it no longer,
and you would sneak out and check again.
You would do this all night, until you became so exhausted that sleep would finally find you in the late hours.
It was a delicious agony for you."
Sometimes I would fall asleep in front of the tree.
I tried so hard on that last visit downstairs to stay awake,
just to greet Santa.
I wanted to say thank you.
"You couldn't wait to play your favorite holiday songs.
Always the classics, right?
Dean Martin and Burl Ives inspired those feelings of holiday cheer within you,
Even in July.
It would be summer, but you just couldn't wait for Christmas to come again.
Holiday music played at full volume in the summer drove your family absolutely crazy.
You wouldn't stop, though.
You were the Christmas Kid, after all."
I wanted to be Santa someday.
I was positive that it could happen.
I just needed the opportunity.
I wanted to make all of the children of the world happy.
Silly thoughts from a silly boy.
"You were young. You still believed in these things."
This is what I want for my nieces, for the children of my closest friends.
I want them to revel in those untarnished holiday hopes and dreams.
I want them to be able to believe in anything.
Those things filled me with happiness.
With hope.
With smiles.
I am different now.
For me,
That was then...
Past tense.
I remember those things as nothing more than some half-remembered nostalgia
Of a distant youth.
It may as well have been something I watched on the television.
Could have happened to someone else.
It may have.
Please just give my heart some room.
I can't breathe when you're this close.
"You really don't want to talk about this, do you?"
It's funny how things change.
Now I just see Christmas as one less day that I can perform somewhere.
"That's a ridiculous statement."
It's completely true.
Now please go, and turn the light off when you leave.
