Dancing Santa to cheer up my mother’s last Christmas

In many ways, attics are dumps for our scraps of memory. They are the hidden niches in which we stuff things that no longer have any real use, but at the same time hold too many memories to throw away. This warped logic is wrestled with at this time of year as you ramble to find the slowly crumbling crates of Christmas decorations and tangled fairy lights.

Entering an attic can be like tiptoeing through a minefield. If you make a mistake, long-buried memories can surface – a one-legged Barbie doll, a headless He-Man toy, an avalanche of letters from a broken Scrabble box, a discarded buckaroo mule that still has an unexpected one gets a bucking kick. For me, the dancing Santa Clause of the recent past best captures that oddly unsettling pull of love and fear that attics hold for us. For many years he was left alone in the attic at Christmas, all because his presence next to the tree would open up too many bundles of poignant memories.

https://www.independent.ie/life/dancing-santa-that-brought-joy-to-my-mothers-last-christmas-42227506.html Dancing Santa to cheer up my mother’s last Christmas

Fry Electronics Team

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