Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I know over the years I have asked for many things such as, a Pony, Teddy Ruxpin, violin lessons, a television, even just plain old cash.  Over the years you have gotten me some items I put on my list, and some were just dreams of a young girl with no understanding of what the holiday's are truly about.  I know it's been years since I've written you a letter, or provided you with a list, but even a woman in her thirties sometimes needs to hold on to a holiday wish.

I have a special request this year, and it's not something that will be easily wrapped up with a bow, and placed in your sleigh.  It's a wish I've discovered many people have this time of year, but only this year I truly feel like I really understand why they are wishing for it.  You see, I don't want things this year under my tree, I want my family.  Although I know this is an impossible request because of work schedules, airline prices, and various other reasons it's still my only request this year.

Last year I spent the holiday's alone as well, and although difficult, what got me though was the belief that I would be able to be with them this year.  This year I found myself in another situation of being unable to be there again, and this time the pain is more raw, and almost unbearable.  I can't travel this year because I am again having to work, to make not even enough money to survive on.  My family can't come spend the holiday's with me, because with a mother who is a minister she is working Christmas Eve, and no one can afford the insanely high airline prices this time of year.

Sure my family has visited me for a week here and there, and I have been able to go and visit them for a short time as well.  The thing is that as a man who travels the world in one night I'm sure you understand Kentucky and Colorado are not close together.  I can't take a weekend to go back home, the flights alone would take up most of my time away.  And although technology helps span that distance, virtual hugs can't compare to the real thing.

I know I am not the first person who can't be with their family for the holiday's, and I know I will not be the last.  Military personnel, emergency workers, medical professionals, and various other professions have to work too.  And maybe I can't be with my family this year because I'm supposed to have a better understanding of what these individuals go through every year.  I don't know the reasons, but what I do know is that everyone deserves a little time with their family this time of year, and when you don't have that choice the holiday's are far from enjoyable.

My family under my tree I know you can't really provide Santa.  I mean elves can't make them in your workshop.  But maybe you could help me find my hope and faith this Christmas, because I've begun to lose those over the past two years.  Maybe you could help me find my belief again that I won't have to spend every holiday alone.  Because to be honest, crying every time I see a commercial on TV about a family reunited for the holiday's really puts a damper on your night.

I know New Year's isn't really your department, but it sure would be nice to have a job next year that would allow me to live comfortably and lets me have some time off to be able to see my family more than one time a year, and on the holiday's.  Maybe you could help with that.

I still believe in holiday miracles, and I still believe in the holiday spirit.  I mean it was 14 years ago today my mom was diagnosed with a life threatening blood disorder that turned that Christmas upside down too.  She's still here though, by some miracle she beat it, and she's seen and done thing none of us were sure she'd ever be able to that year.  So I know nothing is impossible as long as I keep fighting.

So Santa, as you get ready to pack your sleigh, and venture out on your one night worldwide trip, please don't forget to drop a little hope down the chimneys of those of us without our families to share the holiday with.  Some of us need it more than you know this year.

Liza