Santa Me

11

Ho Ho Ho It’s that time of year again a year ago minus one day I was at the independent living center doing the Santa gig. Today I played the part again. I felt better then I did last year but looking out over the smaller and smaller crowd I felt a sadness for days gone past. Kim, kinda of the associate director at the Center treats me. He actually assists me put on the Santa suite. Kim helps me in the
interest of time and the fact I put this suit on over my street clothes would be next to impossible for me to achieve independently.

I am part of a ritual: I arrive like a visitor to the center’s festivities. If I am early enough I might partake of what ever meal the center is serving this year. This year the meal consisted of canned chili, chips and rolls. I am offered food and once finished I am whisked into the director’s office when Kim then assists me in dressing. We discuss world politics, local current events then what is going on at the Center. Kim and I once had side by side offices 20 or so years ago. We also share very similar senses of humor among other things. I pull on the huge Santa shirt and we cinch up the black wide belt and apply the wig and facial hair. The synthetic hairs immediately starts inching my nose. The read cap goes on just before the two black sheaths go on my feet to simulate Gestapo like boots. When I am finished being made ready Kim goes out to the main area where the consumers are and beg\ins leading them in caroling, by the third carol charge my power wheelchair out into the throng do the triple “Ho” thing and mosey over to Mrs Clause, who is already situated in front of a fake fire place. In years past I had been given boxes of candy canes, trinkets and other ‘Santa treats” This year the “Santa Treats” were “Dum Dum bouquets” four or five dum dum suckers bound together. But the treats were forgotten till three fourths of the way through the event. So, no treats but that is OK, because the big event is if you are a consumer, or staff member for that fact, is to have you image taken with me and Mrs. Clause. I sit there and say “Merry Christmas” every time Debbie snaps the Polaroid and the machine spits out another Christmas memory. This goes on, non- stop for the next two hours. Smile click, move on next and begin again. I am sorry to be as cynical as tend to be but the event is similar to running cattle through the chutes at the stock yards. This is the way my day went and then first Tommy shoes, my buddy Tommy—See last year entry. Tommy is still with us but so racked with MS is is just able to smile and he can speak. He shoes up being pushed by his attendant covered with a quilt I swear his mother must have made before mom died. He looks pathetically Tommy. He of course recognized me smiles and his eyes looks like a James Croce song. We talk briefly and I send Tommy on his way and ten minutes later Davy arrives. David is my buddy from the old days like , Tommy. David is a head injury survivor. David looks more and more distant every year but he comes into focus as I call his name and we share a smile and a few words. Dave now lives at along term care facility and hates the place. I make a mental note to make some time, in the coming year, and spend some time with David. I did this last year and never did. But maybe this year I will carry through.

When the two hours pass the call the day, Kim removes the Santa suite and I say my good byes and head back to work thankful at being independent and focused enough to be where I am at this point in my life. I gas my van turn North on Main street and just drive.