Rites of passage
Entry posted by markdohle
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I can remember the exact moment that I finally came to the realization that everything my parents told me was not true. It was not earth shattering, at least as far as trust in my parents went, for I guess I understood on some level why they did not tell me the whole truth at the time. Also I already knew, I was just not allowing it to come to full conciseness, I needed a shock to bring it to full awareness.
I was ten when it happened, just turned ten in fact. Also we had just moved to Panama, Canal Zone, a few short weeks earlier. While the moment of truth is very clear, branded into my mind as most rites of passage are, what actually led up to that moment is a little cloudy. I know that I was being chased by my twin sisters, Judy and Jane, not an unusual occurrence, they were always chasing me or one of the others, and they certainly had a big choice, since at that time they had seven of use to choose from. Georgia, the youngest, would not be born for another year or so. In any case, I ran into my parent’s bedroom, and headed for their closet, hoping to be able to conceal myself there. I opened the door, pushed back some clothes, hoping to hide behind them, though I knew it would do no good. Both of my sisters where at that time like blood hounds, no escape from them once they were on the hunt, of course no one wanted to stay hidden too long, what is the point in that for little children.
It was then that my world changed, the texture of reality got a little more focused for me. Not something I really wanted at that time of the year, but there you have it; those rites of passage show up at the worst times. There behind the hanging clothes where bags of presents, hidden by my parents until Christmas Eve, when they would sneak them under the tree while we were asleep. It only took a second for it to sink in, and like I said earlier, on some level I knew, I was just keeping it just below awareness. Well let’s say Gabriel’s trumpet sounded, and my world ended, only to be replaced by a larger one, though at the time it felt like something was taken away, so it was not a pleasant experience.
Just at that moment my two little monkey sisters came in, laughing and giggling, looking for big brother so they could tickle me to death. That is what they did when they caught up to you. They ran us all down like that, no mercy, just laughing and giggling and tickling, that is what twin sister do when they are six, and they were very good at it.
So time froze for a second, things seemed to slow down, and I had to figure out quick how to hide what I just discovered………that Santa Claus was in reality my parents. So I quickly pushed back the clothes and charged my sisters and down we went outside the closet, with them tickling me and me laughing, though the laugh had a tinge of sadness to it. I just wanted them to have a few more years of believing in the magic of Santa, and I knew that in time they, like all children, would wake up to the fact that Christmas was not really about Santa, or gifts, but something deeper.
Something lost; something gained, that is what rites of passage are all about. Childlike naivety is beautiful in children, and letting go of it can be painful, but there you have it. Life is brutal in its carrying out the maturing process, and in the end I guess for the most part we are better off for it, though at times I miss that special time when Christmas had a magic quality to it. Not something I can go back to, nor want, but just a pleasant memory.
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