Last year, we fed the reindeer. He found the plate over turned, foot prints in the powder trap. My son has instructed this year to make cookies this year. Flights willing, he will be with me for Christmas. I will try not to burn them.

I have to say, though, I have struggled with this one. Too many reasons to sort precisely the trajectories, but for a long time, I became resolute with this idea- perpetuating Santa myth was lying. Even with my seven year old, not breaking the chain of myth took some tap dancing- in a very counselor, 'i am slow and I need to be educated' sort of way, I simply ask for evidence. Questions given are reflected back, "What are your thoughts? How do you feel about that?"

There was a time I believed. I think it inspired hope. There was a time I didn't believe. There was less hope. Today, I believe in magic and mystery. I believe in things unseen, and though I try to be persuasive, mostly when pressed for what I believe, I simply ask, "I don't know, what you think?"

I returned to celebrating Christmas after the birth of my son. Tree went up. Lights came on, with a little profanity. I pulled out my grandfathers reel to reel player and spun music. Magic enough then, and still now.

Happy thanksgiving, Bryce, to you and your family. Thank you.