I was determined to have a festive Christmas in 2025. Afterall, we were alive and healthy. Wendell got some very good news at a doctor’s visit and wouldn’t need to undergo a procedure after all. The doctor couldn’t explain why, so I declared it a Christmas miracle.
This being so, it surprised me that I had no ambition to scout out a live Christmas tree when I found out that my favorite cousin’s tree farm, on land where I used to visit my maternal grandparents, had no more trees for sale this year. I swallowed my disappointment when he told me this would be their last year for the business.
No tree meant no sparkly lights. What was I going to do? Thinking Christmas music would give atmosphere, I went to the stereo and shuffled through CDs. I was looking for one featuring an Estonian choir I’d learned about from my former Tai Chi teacher Ruth. I wasn’t looking for the special edition CD that she played when we practiced since that had not been mass produced. After an exhaustive search, I finally gave up finding a copy. But I did purchase an Estonian choir CD that I’ve enjoyed for many years. But this year when I played it, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth and how much I missed her. I wanted to share my excitement about Tai Chi Chih and how I had become an accredited teacher.
Then there was a CD that was a gift from a man I dated many years ago. It didn’t exactly have the traditional Christmas sound but Jon had loved it and tried to explain its significance to me. I eventually grew to appreciate it, but this year, all I could think about when it played was how sad it was that he had died just as he was regaining his health. This year, the music just sounded overly dramatic and sappy at times. When it came on, I wanted it to be over.
Then there was the Hillbilly Holiday CD, which has always given me some good laughs. But this year, when “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” – the only thing it gave me was the distinct feeling that I never wanted to listen to it again.
Perhaps something more solemn would do it? Handel’s Messiah surely would put me in the Christmas mood, but I only made it halfway through the first of the two disks. It was so loud!
In fact, all of the CDs felt too loud even when I turned them down. I’m so used to our quiet house that the music seemed like interference. Maybe it wasn’t only the music but the memories it evoked.
The quiet was lovely. We had quite a bit of it and somehow – it became festive. There were cards and calls from people we love. The long-stemmed Poinseittia became our tree. The food was delicious, even though it wasn’t my mother’s gravy.
When my great grandson visited the day after Christmas, my desire for festive was completely fulfilled. The minute my granddaughter and her family walked in the door, I heard a declaration: “I’m four now!” After hugs and opening presents, I kept thinking, “I’m eighty now and this was a festive Christmas!”
IMAGE: The Guardian is back on the new deck, admiring the patterns in the snow.
