Santa Claus is dead to me, and the only time I experience the sparkle of Christmas is when I drive home at night and glance at the neighborhood light displays. But Christmas lives on as a shadow universe rubbing against my own: the anticipated glee of presents, of rarely seen siblings home from college for the holiday, the promise of games, the camaraderie. Once you feel that as a young boy it does not die. It shines like a silent star in your sky, an omen to follow through the desert, if only once a year.
Advertisement
