My kindergarten daughter is joyfully, loudly singing - in childish mispronunciation - the song "Mele Kalikimaka" from our Bing Crosby Christmas album. It's one of her favorite holiday-time songs, along with "Marshmallow World" as performed by Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.
Generations of family holiday celebrations are embodied now in this one little girl, illuminated by her excited smile, dancing by the Christmas tree in her own family room. I can watch her and listen to her and think of my own childhood Christmases, still living in grainy moving relief on the old home movies, carefully preserved from the old reel tapes onto DVD.
I'm spending more time these days sick with worry over our finances and less enjoying what should be the brightest spots of the season: the cookies we've baked, the delicate process of making lefse, the time-worn but well-loved Christmas specials we watch, and the quiet peace of sitting in a firelit room in the glow of Christmas lights.
I can help worrying. Someone has to.
May it never have to be my glorious, featherlight, carefree girl - the one who sings with such joyous abandon and lights up my heart.
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1 comment:
Cool... Mele Kalikimaka. ;)
Now back to cleaning. :)
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