I may be crazy, but I’m already listening to Christmas music. Not 24/7 – that probably won’t happen until mid-November – but at work, I sometimes put my Dean Martin Christmas station on Pandora and I am immediately relaxed.
There’s something about Christmas carols from the 1950s and ’60s that just puts me at ease and makes my heart happy. It could be that I secretly feel like I belong in the 1940s and ’50s, but I’m sure it’s the fact that many of these are the songs I grew up listening to while preparing and waiting for Christmas.
I hear Nat King Cole or Andy Williams and I picture my parents’ house with the Christmas tree up and decorated, the fireplace decorated, and the entire family room full of Christmas decorations, and I instantly feel cozy and at peace. I hear the Lionel train racing around the track, blowing its whistle, and I smell that distinctive smell of the train smoke. I picture my Mom in the kitchen rolling out dough for us to make cut-out cookies with. I feel the content of sitting on the sofa with my family and watching Rudolph or A Charlie Brown Christmas.
I hear “A Marshmallow World” by Dean Martin and I laugh as I picture my aunt, who at her Christmas party a few years ago, did the same hilarious motion each time Dean sang “…get out and roll it along…”.
I hear Frank Sinatra sing “Jingle Bells” or “Mistletoe and Holly” and I picture my Nana’s house at Christmas, and her kitchen (because that’s where we spent the most time with her) and I feel comfort. But at the same time, there is a pang of sadness…I’ll never have a Thanksgiving, December, or Christmas at Nana’s house. And how fitting…just as I type this “The Christmas Waltz” by Frank Sinatra starts to play and tears instantly come to my eyes.
Oh, the joy and heartache of Christmas carols!