Moved to Tears
It had happened again, as it does about this time every year, I had been taken over by a little person that resides deep within, as I feel does in every one,. She refuses to let adulthood take over her place in my life since she woke as a child, and to this day swears she saw Santa putting gifts on the end of her bed.
Now the only problem I have with this ego, is that for some reason the sound of Christmas carols set her emotions on an unexplained ebb and flow of haunting warmth and longing, that triggering off a rollercoaster ride which in turn opens the floodgates and tears start to flow … Automatically I attempt to join in, albeit is impossible to sing along and cry at the same time.
Having battled this embarrassing conundrum all my life, although years ago arrived at the stage where I can almost pretend they are not playing everywhere in the shopping centers, therefore I get to do most of my shopping without sobbing, although the bill sometimes makes me want to.
Now this new problem arose last December in the form of a five year old Fairy Princess who calls me Nana and spends every Friday yakking at me. I was instructed it was time to put up home decorations, okay this means we had to visit the garage. Oh goody! … Rummaging through twelve months of accumulated dust to locate boxes, then lug them back to the shamefully undecorated lounge room.
With ladder in hand and supervisor on a chair in the centre of the room, I was directed as to what was to go where, all fine as I do enjoy this part of Christmas, but sadly neglected to continue the tradition after our own offspring had flown the coup.
Then the REQUEST that led to the quandary of how to handle the situation. Nana, can we Please play Christmas carols, jingle bells and Rudolf the red nose reindeer? Being the best Nana I can, I dig out the records and the player (yes I am not that modern) I still have Bing Crosby singing White Christmas.
Anyway she is so mesmerised by Nana’s funny big black cd’s as she called them, she didn’t notice my half strangled replies or the eyes starting to fill, even going into another room didn’t help as my Friday shadow was right there yakking.
After playing the above mentioned requests, and before I completely dissolved into a blubbering mess, I put on White Christmas and did the only thing I could think of at the time, I started to sing along with Bing. Now for those of you out there that unaware, I’m the only Mum I know of that when she sang lullabies to her babies they started to cry until I stopped.
It only took one carol before my Princess decided it was time to go outside for the twentieth time to see if the chooks had laid any more eggs.
I think I need a better solution, as I don’t want her to grow up crying every time she is with me and hears carols, in case Nana starts to sing again.