Falalala

I Can't Let Go Of The Light

and

Jan 01, 2025

As this year nears an end, I am reluctant to release the holidays and move into 2025. As Christmases go, this one was quiet for us. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the days before and after Christmas more than I can say. As such, I feel reluctant to release the holiday, so this post I mentioned would not be in your inbox this week is finding its way to you. It’s my way of encouraging myself and anyone who wants to join me to take a bit of the goodness into the new year.

I’ll be quoting Sleeve’s “Christmas Song” lyrics in this post , with a link to the video at the end. I hope you enjoy. Do give it a listen. There’s something magical about the song.

Over the years I've received many gifts "only money can buy." But as I age, I'm learning that the things money can't buy are far more valuable.

My favorite gifts could not be purchased, borrowed, or bargained for this Christmas. Nature, music, and family nestled into my heart, leaving me feeling pretty good.

I was feeling pretty good fa la la la la
Taking my time on the la la la la

As we drive to celebrate Christmas Eve at our niece Cassie's house, the sun is setting; the sky is a divided canvas. To the east, the lingering storm offers us a lightning show. As we turn west away from the storm down the two-lane road toward Cassie's home, the sky blazes crimson red, streaked with oranges and yellows, scattered clouds, and softened with swaths of relinquishing blue. The beauty of this natural spectacle fills us with awe and appreciation for the world around us.

Everybody singing like la la la la
Decking all the halls with the la la la la
Making my way to the la la la la la la la

Sharing music has always been a unique way to connect with loved ones. As we drive, Rick shares one song with me and I offer up two. We listen on the car speakers. He has me pull up Dominic the Christmas Donkey. We giggle over the lighthearted lyrics.

Next I offer my dear friend Lynn's husband, Mel, playing "The Christmas Song" on the piano, which Google tells me is (commonly subtitled "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" or, as it was originally subtitled, "Merry Christmas to You"). Rick says exactly what I thought when I first watched the video on FB, “How amazing would it be to be able to play like that?” What a gift.

The final song we listen to is Sleeve’s “Christmas Song,” which another dear friend, Carole, also a pianist, shared with me a few weeks back. I will include the last two links below.

I play one after the other as we travel down the country road heading into the sunset. We are at a loss for words. Instead, we listen, appreciating nature, music, and this holiday's gifts.

I don’t think about a thing
And feel a million miles away
Like I’m floating from the sky
Like a storm of falling snow
Then I’m spinning through the trees

I fumble with my phone, wishing to take a picture, but it will prevent the music. Instead, I take a mental snapshot, capturing the vibrant colors of the sky, the peacefulness of the road, and the beauty of the moment. It's a picture I'll carry with me. I’ve done my best to describe it.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

The local fruit stand on the corner, a symbol of the changing seasons and the ebb and flow of life, will not reopen until next season.
A flock of birds makes its way overhead, their slow and graceful movement capturing my attention. They fly in unison with seemingly no effort. It makes me wonder, what can we learn from these birds? Perhaps it's about the beauty of simplicity, the power of unity, or the grace of effortless living.
The uneven fence posts line the flooded rice fields, the pooled water mirroring the scarlet sky.
A four-way stop, not a car in sight on Christmas Eve.
The signpost for a local bar long since closed still stands at the corner reminding us of the ever-changing landscape of life.
Puddles from the recent rain rim the roadway.
The lightning still calls for our attention in the distance.
Mountains stand majestically far off to the right, jutting up in a sea of flatlands.
The color of the sky continues to deepen to hews only nature can create.
Christmas lights greet travelers from the big house on the right just after the stop sign.

Only minutes later we arrive at Cassie’s to spend Christmas Eve with Rick's sister Janis’ large family, consisting of three siblings, their spouses, their father, and their eight children aged 17 to 2, with another on the way. Janis watches over us from the heavens above.

We enjoy a delicious dinner, games afterward, and the finale: Grandpa making cookies for Santa with his grandchildren. All of the youngest grandkids gather around the kitchen island, the littlest ones sitting on the island.

Then I’m shining in the road
For the people in the light
And all the children in the light
Singing holy holy night

I will never have this many grandchildren. I am in awe.

BUT— my first grandchild is making her way to me, due June 23.

And God willing, one day in the not-too-distant future, I will make cookies for Santa with my granddaughter.

I was feeling pretty good fa la la la la
Taking my time on the la la la la
Snow falling down in the la la la la
Everybody singing like la la la la
Decking all the halls with the la la la la
Making my way to the la la la la la la la

Wishing you an easy transition into the new year.

Singing holy holy night

Mel’s post can be found here https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10215486212733626&id=1387818648

And here is Sleeve’s video.

And if you have time for one more feel good read, check out my buddy Paulette’s post this week. Seems I’m not the only one holding on to the goodness.