Santa Claus

I started reminiscing about Christmases past today. I find these time of the year both joyful and a bit depressing at the same time. While I'm in a good place at this stage of my life, I look back at all the loved ones I've lost over the years. The first really close loved one I lost was my Uncle Lyle. I was 23 years old. Uncle Lyle was our "Santa Claus." when I was a little over six, my mother decided it was time to "expose" Santa. We lived in an old drafty farmhouse with stove pipes which ran straight up to the second floor. There was a decorative grate around that stove pipe that could be opened or closed. Normally, somehow that grate was always closed on Christmas Eve. This year, it was not. When Santa came, we would hear "ho-ho-ho" and sleigh bells. This year, when we hear the sleigh bells, we peered down through the grate. There was Uncle Lyle! I knew it, I knew it. Santa Claus was none other than my Uncle Lyle! I just knew that to be true. When friends at school told me there was no Santa, I enlightened them as to his true identity. Darn right! Years later, when sweet Uncle Lyle died, I said my Santa had existed in my heart to that time. He was a wonderful uncle to us and a great Santa! You see, throughout the year while we lived in Oconto County, we would find gifts left around for us. We found hockey skates, roller skates, baseball gloves, dolls, etc. No, not just on Christmas, but all year long. My folks didn't have much money, but we had Uncle Lyle, a priceless treasure!