MOM LOVED CHRISTMAS

My mom absolutely loved Christmas.

She loved the decoration.  In later years, when most of us were out of the house, she would ask Joe to pick her up a Christmas tree.  She would share with me memories of her and her brother gathering up their skates and walking to a nearby frozen lake.  I can imagine Mom skating at scenes like this one, though this particular photo is from Evergreen, CO, which is up at the foot of the Rockies.

And though Mom absolutely loved Southern California's brilliant sun compared to the sun in Denver, she also loved active, outdoor scenes too. 

Mom loved to decorate her living room and dining room with Christmas ornaments. 

Kathleen Larkin mailed her a Christmas wreath, which she hung out on her front door every year. 

Mom and Dad both would hang Christmas cards on a string across the ceiling, place a few on the furniture in the living room as well as on the hutch in the dining room. 

And perhaps her most treasured display was the Nativity set. 

As for Christmas music, Mom's favorite was Bing Crosby, 

 

But she liked all of it.  What I posted about Dad preparing Thanksgiving and the Christmas song list there, she too enjoyed those.  And why not?  So much of christmas music is like a tender lullaby as my dear friend, Joanne put it listening to the Irish band, Capercaillie.  Here's that list from the post about Dad listening to the radio while prepping the turkey late into the night on Thanksgiving Eve. 

I do miss the Thanksgiving dinners that my dad used to prepare. He'd start the night before.  He'd set his radio to KFI where they'd already begun playing his Christmas favorites--Bing Crosby's "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," 1951, "Mele Kalikimaka," 1950, Perry Como's "Jingle Bells," 1946, Burl Ives' "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," 1964, and choral pieces by Mitch Miller and His Gang.  I'll never forget his "Sing Along with Mitch" Christmas chorus album we had in the house.  I liked Mitch Miller, 1911-2010, for the invigorating energy he sang Christmas songs with the delicious irony that he was Jewish.  Funny to see how some of my musical influences stem from the '40s, '50s, and '60s. 

One of my favorite soprano singers is Renee Fleming.  I could not believe what I was hearing when I first heard her voice so many years ago, probably around 2005 or 2007.  The screensaver on my computer was a photo of her in a red Christmas dress.

When a woman's voice can make you cry, you know that she has struck a chord of beauty and love.  And few voices have that power.  Hers does.  I know for a fact that Dad would have loved to hear her voice.  Dad's favorite singer was Anne Murray, but the beauty here in Fleming's voice is inimitable.  The beauty of religion and religious stories is that they tend to be mysterious, the more improbable the more we try to make sense of them.  But they are told in an aura of mysticism, wonder, and love.  And when we hear these carols and familiar stories so many years later, we are transported back to that improbable love, where we honor the source of life and love found in the Biblical story of Christ's birth, a love in which few are capable in a world that seems to know mostly evil, envy, and violence.  And so Christmas and its celebrations are that one time during the year that Christians around the world commemorate peace which turns our hard, stupid hearts toward gratitude and love.

Last year, on Christmas Eve, I posted this video from Westminster Abbey in London.  

Along with "Silent Night" in German, or "Stille Nacht."  

And then for Christmas delicacies, her favorite without comparison was See's Candies.