I confess to being thoroughly disgusted that the local pharmacy had Christmas decorations teetering on the top of the shelves that housed the Halloween products two weeks into October. Santa appearing at the Mall before anyone even gets a chance to flip the calendar to November bothers me too. But there is one Christmas tradition in which I will indulge just about any time: Christmas Music.
I get this from my mom. She would launch into a chorus of “The weather outside is frightful…” at a moment’s notice. She loved Christmas music and was always catching herself after the season if she started to sing a hymn. “Oh darn, I shouldn’t be singing that anymore, I guess.” She always sounded a little depressed in these moments.
But I loved to hear her sing those Christmas hymns and songs. She was usually cooking in the kitchen when it happened, and it usually meant that things were going well and maybe the house was freshly scrubbed, or she was just simply happy. I can almost smell the turkey in the crock pot or the baking cake when I think about it. I can hear her humming the verses where the lyrics escaped her, only to break out in song as soon as it was time for the chorus.
So today, on my work-from-home day, I decided to crank up the stereo, and instead of jazz and blues or classical, I filled the air with Christmas music.
As I work on cell signaling articles, I occasionally pause, catching a phrase from one of her favorite songs, and I realize again just how much I miss her. But I can honor her memory. I can keep Christmas in my heart all year long, and a song on my tongue, ready at a moment’s notice.
Ah yes, Silver Bells, our favorite little inside joke about a trumpet solo that went really badly for me one Christmas band concert night…
I miss you Mom.