That in mind, for some unknown reason, I've always had a soft spot for holiday tunes. From the day after Thanksgiving thru Christmas Day (only), I can't get enough of the festive music - primarily the standards --> anything by Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Ray Charles, peppered w/ Harry Connick Jr's first Christmas record. I eat it all up.
Over the years, I've been told by my goyim friends that the reason I can even tolerate such music is b/c it wasn't jammed in my ear holes every holiday season since birth. This makes sense. Growing up, our Jewish household didn't fill the Chanukah air w/ sounds of Perry Como's "Do You Hear What I Hear." If we had, I'd probably rebel, too.
But, then I met the goy/girl of my dreams and all bets were off. I remember our first Christmas season together. Jill and I drove up to meet her family in Iowa. We rocked those holiday tunes the whole six-hour trip up. Why? B/c we both enjoyed the warm feeling we got from listening to it. It's like an audio blanket. There is just something comforting about holiday music.
So, for the Jew and the Jill, we embraced our appreciation for Christmas music each and every holiday season.
And as Rory and I drove home from Tennessee yesterday, we turned those holiday tunes up. And as we listened, we talked about the songs that meant something to Mommy. For example, Jilly loves "All I Want for Christmas" by Mariah Carey...but she despises Mariah herself.
It's these minute, arguably meaningless memories that add to the definition of Jill, the definition of Mommy. And so we'll continue this conversation all season, every season. We'll turn up Brenda Lee and we'll dance to the Drifters. And we'll honor Jill with each passing track. B/c it's the holidays. And Jill knew how to do the holidays. Here's proof...
J, J, & r