I just woke up from that semi-dream that seems so real. In the twilight of my room I had found myself typing furiously to keep up with the sound and sight of those familiar words, “T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the house…”
All the words of any tale told to me across my life, of the magic stories of Santa Claus, of Peter Pan and Wendy and the boys, of all the poetry I’ve cherished of Dickens and Tiny Tim and Bob Cratchett’s family, and the Spirits of Christmas Past …. all these came tumbling out in long lines, waving across the room, from wall to wall, undulating with so many words, so small as if I were in Santa’s sleigh, following as the tales were told.
You were there, too, and I was determined to get every single word, exactly as it was being told and seen at the same time. We would finally have it!
And then, the clatter showed up and I knew the typing was not really happening, that there was no record at all of the magic I’d been following with all my heart.
I suddenly realized that the words I was following had been already typed over by the wall by my computer monitor, and all the rest that wanted to be said and remembered, all of that was gone.
………………… yet not gone, because here I am having to tell you all about it.
You may be wondering how Peter Pan got caught up in all that remembered time. This is how that happened: every year in early December, my mother would take my sister and me into the City to see the annual show for children in some theatre on Broadway.
Those undulating lines we traveled together just now were like the flight of Peter Pan as he circled the ceiling, and flew out of the window into the night.
I am defying gravity by telling you this tale of magic and delight that was so much more than my simple words can evoke. The best part is that you couldn’t wait for me to get all the lines out, all the words of all the stories that we tell ourselves to keep us young at heart. We did take that flight in long lines, back and forth across my darkened room.
This fresh memory is the only proof I have that it really happened.
Who knows, it may return next year, and that is when I will truly catch it all. with love …