Fact or fiction?

Thanks for the nice comments about my last post. You know. That particular memory of the Christmas tree delivered by Santa is one of the strongest from my childhood. And one of the warmest. I clearly remember hearing the sleigh bells, trying to push my way around the tree to get a glimpse at the fleeing red coat, feeling the prick of the pine needles and the unbelievable thrill in a pre-Christmas visit from Santa himself. It made my Christmas. It cemented my Belief for a lifetime. Other details of the day are fuzzy but have become clearer in my minds eye through the many, many retellings.

My mom read my blog last night. Low and behold, many details of that day were fuzzy it seems. For instance, I was 4 not 7. It was in Los Angeles before we moved up north and there was neither snow nor reindeer and sleigh tracks. However, the rest was pretty accurate. It seems I’ve merged several memories together into one. I hate it when that happens.

Does this ever happen to you? What do you do when presented with evidence contrary to a childhood memory? I’m not talking things like DNA proof here. That stuff is important. But stories handed down from adults to children, told and retold? Or your own stories you’ve told from your child’s-eye view only to find the adult-eye view made the story completely different? Do you abandon your long-held, often retold story in favor of the historically accurate version? Or do you stick with the original telling, facts be damned?


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