(11/15) “When I was a kid the saddest day of the year was during...

(11/15) “When I was a kid the saddest day of the year was during the second week of January. When one day I’d come home from school, and shout: ‘I’m home!’ And my voice would echo through the house. It meant the decorations had been taken down. And Christmas was gone for another year. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have a problem with nostalgia. It’s hard to explain; it’s like I base my whole life on the past. I have this longing and this need for how things used to be. I want it back. All of it: every parade, every Miracle on 34th, every Feast of The Seven Fishes, every Wouldn’t it Be Amazing. I don’t want to get old. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want anyone leaving me. Tabatha tells me: think about all the good stuff that’s still going to happen. We get to watch him graduate high school. And college. He’s going to meet someone. We get to see all that. And it does help me, when I focus on the future. But it hurts a little too. Because Jack is almost the same age as I was when my father passed away. And that makes me sad. Sad and scared. But then the end of November rolls around again. Time for my first shift. I’ll jump on the N-Train. I’ll listen to my playlist of 1140 Christmas songs. And here comes the euphoria. The right hand running up the keys. Up, up, up, until the stairs turn to wood. And poof. It’s a time machine. Suddenly it’s all in front of me again. It’s a magic trick, a dupe. I know what it is, but I never want it to end. I asked the real Santa for advice one time. We met for coffee at the Times Square McDonald’s, and I asked him: ‘How do you handle it? How do you handle when it all comes to an end?’ And you know what he told me? He said that Christmas Eve is the hardest day of the year for him. His final shift at Macy’s ends at 5:30. He goes to mass, and then he goes home. And he spends the evening alone. I never imagined. I thought I loved Christmas. But it’s so much bigger for him. He has a real beard. I never imagined what it must be like for Santa himself. “It’s hard for me too,” he said. “But I’ve never had a beautiful family like you.”