I don’t know what prompted it today, but I spend some time reminiscing about when I visited Santa as a child. For me, that was always my favorite part of the Christmas season.

We went to Goldsmith’s (think of Macy’s and you get the idea). I distinctly remember a spiral entrance ramp to the parking garage, almost like it was yesterday. Maybe because I was so keyed up with excitement that I took in every detail.

We had to go through a tunnel of festive holiday figures, including elves and other merry creatures– okay, so I’m a little fuzzy on the details of this part. I remember it was like stepping into a dream. The good kind of dreams that you always wish you could go back to every time you fall asleep.

And then at the end there was Santa. Okay, not really. Just some guy in a costume affecting a jolly demeanor. But for me it was real enough. Once I got over my terrifying fear of him (and I’m not so sure what frightened me so much about him), I was able to get my Christmas list to the big guy himself. Talk about going straight to the top.

I think that one of the best thing a parent can do is to create these kinds of memories for their children. Children need happy, safe memories to carry with them through the nightmares and dark nights. Memories like this one.

I’ve seen the photos of me sitting in Santa’s lap as a very young tyke, face beet red and screaming my head off. Why anybody thought that would make a great holiday photo, I have no idea. But it still exists in a photobook somewhere in all its kodachrome glory.

Maybe one day I’ll scan it and post it on my facebook page. On second thought. . . . nah.