Today’s blog
Lynn Murphy Mark
That season has arrived
Thanksgiving 2023 is behind us. Christmas day is in precisely one month from today. Christmas wreaths are hanging on light poles in hundreds of towns, mine included. Black Friday sales happen all week long. Christmas-related movies are playing on the tee and vee, with “It’s a wonderful life” prominently displayed on a couple of stations. If a streaming service exists in a home, it is possible to find that classic “Christmas Story” film along with dozens of others that may or may not be free. I really object to being charged $5.99 to watch one of my favorites, but that’s capitalism for you.
My holiday season starts in earnest on Thanksgiving Day when I’m up before the dawn, and Handel’s Messiah is blasting through my ear buds. If I’m lucky, there will be a performance of the oratorio somewhere in town and I always snag a ticket when this happens. It’s usually a solo event for me because I am such a devoted fan and most of my people are not. Messiah is just one of hundreds of recordings of classic and whimsical Christmas music in my collection. As soon as Messiah is over, I start listening to my carefully curated assortment of tunes.
As a Christmas music devotee I look forward to listening to the albums that I have collected over the decades. Some, notably a couple of Anne Murray albums, have been around in my household since the kids were little. When she comes into my awareness my heart literally swells to remember those days of trees, cookies, shopping lists for the latest toy or gizmo, and the look on Jackie and Ted’s faces when they woke up on Christmas Day. Inevitably I would be exhausted from having sung at midnight at Webster Groves Christian Church on Christmas Eve.
Whenever I think about how old my collection is I remember I learned once that Christmas music is thought to have originated in 4th century Rome. Not until the 1400’s in England were songs sung in English instead of Latin. There was a collection of twenty-five “caroles” that were sung by small groups of singers going from home to home. “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” was a favorite with the carolers.
My parents were music fans as well. So, whenever Nat King Cole starts singing I have a vague sense of happiness left over from over 70 years ago. We always had a real tree, with those bubble lights that look like candles. And there had to be tinsel on the tree. I love to go over to Rose’s house and admire her tree, which always features tinsel. Last Christmas was the first year I have not had a real tree. Believe me, this is a huge change in my tradition. Instead we have a small pretend tree that is only decorated with lights and small bunches of red berries. It is simple, but it also shines brightly in the darkness. I love turning off lamps and just sitting quietly admiring the tiny lights in the darkness.
This year Jackie is bringing the boys to St. Louis for a week. They will be with us on Christmas Eve. We will put on matching pajamas and go downtown to Union Station to board the Polar Express train ride. The boys don’t know about this yet. I don’t know how long we can keep it a secret, but I have high hopes that they will love the experience of a real train ride. This is how Christmas memories are made. I have plenty of my own, supported by music that I love.