So my memories of Christmas from my childhood revolve around being warm and tired. This may sound strange. Let me explain.
We always went to the Christmas Eve service at our church – we went to the Clayton Presbyterian Church, which was only a few small town blocks from our house. Some years we walked, but most of the time we drove since it was winter. The Christmas Eve service usually started around 9:30 PM, and lasted until 11:30 or midnight. So I was always very sleepy afterwards, and the car ride home could not last long enough. Tired and warm, I would get into bed and wait for morning. Christmas was so exciting.
I just thought of another thing. Our church’s choir was really good. I compare every church choir I ever hear to that choir, and they always come up short. When I was little, my mom would perform with them in their Christmas Cantata, and I just remember the force and power of that music. It was like a wall of sound. It’s still the reason why those classic carols like O Holy Night, Carol of the Bells, and Greensleeves are my favorites – minor chords, and blasting harmonies.
Which brings me to music. Man do I love music. The other day I got my saxophone out and started playing it. It started as a joke, but I kind of got into it. I really miss being a part of a band. It’s the wall of sound again. Nothing like it. So that’s Christmas, I guess. Being warm, tired, and surrounded by a wall of sound. Hot diggity dog.
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