There I was, sitting in row three of the balcony, dead-center. It was the Phoenix Symphony Holiday Concert with the Phoenix Choir, and within seconds of the start of the song, tears began to form. Soon, I was searching for Kleenex in my purse to dab those I couldn’t blink back. The top of my mask absorbed the runaways. I never got close to a sob, but I felt my bottom lip quiver. Fortunately, the tears were gone by the final note.
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…”
Has that ever happened to you? A single song lets loose a string of memories tucked so deep inside, that when the gate opens, there is no controlling them.
I think it’s a longing. For what was, or maybe, what wasn’t.
I knew white Christmases as a child in Wisconsin, and loved the beauty of the snow, and the beauty of the love I felt in my family. My parents and the four of us kids would celebrate with church and some gifts on Christmas Eve, because the morning meant packing up the car and the four-hour drive to Milwaukee to Grandpa and Grandma’s. I never once remember not making it due to snow.
Once there, we’d steal some of Grandma’s ribbon candy from the candlewick bowl, and we’d stand back from the fireplace as Grandpa would throw on one of his logs, special for the holidays, with their colorful flames. Does anyone remember those?
At some point in our visit, we’d play with our cousins, and visit our other grandmother. I still have and cherish the silver berry spoon she gave me when I was a teenager, though at the time, I probably wanted a record by Herman’s Hermits.
“Where the treetops glisten, and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow.”
The last time my family celebrated Christmas together was 1972 – 49 years ago. And every year I think of that, I grieve the loss of what was – family celebrations and traditions, and what might have been, had our family unit continued to gather.
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write.”
Now don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful life. Matter of fact, I am living my best life, but trust me, Norman Rockwell has never come knocking on my door during the holidays. And sometimes, that’s been hard.
So what’s the point of this? Cherish the fond memories you have, and do what you can to keep making more of them, for yourself, and others. Looking back, I wish I’d made more of an effort to return from Michigan to southwest Wisconsin to spend time with family. I can never get that time back with my sisters, their husbands and my nieces and nephews.
The holidays can be tough for some people for a variety of reasons. Still invite them, or at the very least, call them! Honor their tears if they shed any, and respect if they’d prefer to stay home and eat a package of white fudge covered Oreo’s.
“May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white, or ocean blue, or desert brown, or mountain green.”
Yes, songs do make me cry also! Especially, old hymns. Christmas, for me, has many of your favorite memories. Hayward was an awesome place to grow up! I do miss it at Christmas. But, then it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Enjoy the Now! Our lesson for this year! 😀
Thank you, JoEllyn , and what a great reminder for me – enjoy the now!
We can relate to the first notes of a song! Just three notes into some tunes it can make you travel back to sitting on an itchy couch at your aunt’s house or to a featherbed at your grandparents’ house. Thank you for allowing us to feel better as our tears slip down our faces.
Thank you, Teresa. I love your own memories! Aren’t we lucky we have them.
No holiday makes us remember past gatherings and encourages hope for new special memories than Christmas. Always nice to pause and reminisce while we are caught up in current day chaos of making new memories.
Thank you, Harry. You are right – reminiscing is part of the joy.
This certainly brought back memories…ribbon candy and colorful fireplace logs! We would always go to midnight mass and come home to have stollen and Cold Duck (inexpensive champagne that even the younger ones got a sip of). The were no presents on Christmas Eve in the earlier years but as the younger of us became adults Christmas Eve was a time for gathering of immediate family for those who could. Christmas Day saw the larger family come and go as their schedules allowed. I am forever grateful for two of my sisters who were able to host us for those. Thanks for helping me bring back memories and be reminded of what to be thankful for from years gone by.
Oh Clare, this is beautiful. Thanks for reminding me to be more grateful. (P.S. Did we have the same grandparents?)
Thank you for sharing! I remember being lucky as we used to receive Hannukah gifts for 8 nights plus a Christmas present (so we weren’t left out). The Christmas tree grew smaller each year until we were mature enough to want a Hannukah bush (no luck). It wasn’t one song. Rather the Jewish girl enjoying singing Christmas carols with friends…
What beautiful memories. Thank you for sharing, Adrian.
My mom used to let me decorate our front door with ornaments. It was a 1920’s solid wood door, painted red. I did that for years. I still have many of those ornaments. Seeing and holding any one of those ornaments brings back a flood of memories.
Elaine, thank you. What a great tradition. I, too, have many old family ornaments and cherish those more than any others.
When I started adding this I thought you were missing the snow and I was ready to remind you about the reality of it. I had to let our 14 year old arthritic dog out in zero degree temp and 3+” of new snow. Then went out to shovel her a path in the lawn.
So, now that I get the real message, I remember Christmas mornings opening family and Santa packages. Then I remember packing up everyone to spend the day with my Mom and Dad. Many times we would be singing “over the River and through the woods to Grandmothers house we go” … to keep from being afraid of sliding off the road covered with new snow. Treasured memories. Thanks Pam