i don't want to tell people santa is dead anymore

It was an emotional night. Polar Express as "family movie night" did not go over well. Why do they have to put a ghost, or spirit, or whatever in the middle of the movie?

I never want to watch that movie again.

Tears  were flowing.
And then it came.

Mom.
I don't want to tell people Santa is dead anymore.

I felt like someone had splashed cold water in my face while I was sleeping.
What had we done? Had we stolen the magic from Christmas? In our quest for honesty had we unwittingly chosen cynicism over joy?
Our sweet little six year old boy was telling us that he wanted to believe.  In the magic.  In the wonder. In Santa Clause.  I don't want to sleep through any of these wonder years.

So, now, of course, we believe in Santa Clause.

We started out a little bit rocky.  What do we do now that we believe in Santa? There are a lot of variations to the story.  Which ones are "true?"  How do you reconcile that your brain knows that Santa Clause was a real person who lived long ago and brought gifts to children, but he was a person, so he died; but your heart wants to believe that somehow the magic still lives on?
So, as mom and dad, rather than have to prove he exists, we help with the imagination:

• Wouldn't it be so cool to visit the north pole?
• I wonder what elves are like?
• Maybe this...
• What if that...

We have yet to visit Santa this year, so we will see if he passes the test.  And instead of answering the question,

Is that the real Santa?

I am awake, and prepared.

What do you think? Do you think he is the real Santa?