Songs and Snow

It’s Christmas Eve and my entire family including my uncle Geno and Grandma Dolores are crammed in my Grandma’s car, huddled under our fat winter coats. The snow flutters down outside as we drive down the country roads to my Grandma’s house after the Christmas Eve service. Before long we start singing; usually we start with Christmas is Coming, the Goose is Getting Fat. After our mixed harmony we precede into the classics: Silent Night, White Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Some songs we sing in a round and others all together. Mom and Sara add the harmonies while Ash, Geno, and I carry the melody. Occasionally my dad who doesn’t enjoy singing will mutter the words under his breath. As we turn down Elmdale road towards the house with the blue star on the roof, we start O How Lovely is the Evening. My mom starts softly, “O How lovely is the evening, is the evening; when the bells are sweetly ringing, sweetly ringing.” Sara and Grandma join together, and finally Ash and I add our voices. By the last “ding, dong” of the bells, tears well in our eyes as we remember Grandpa Joe and his favorite carol.

In many ways, my family is like this ride home on a crisp Christmas night. Our lives intertwine just likes the chords we sing. We push through the times of trial and sadness in the same way we sing through the impossible high notes in Silent Night. We are a mixture of the classic Adeste Fidelis and the modern Up on the house Top. My song is not complete without the complimentary voices of my family. We remember our past and sing with our hearts. Not even the raging weather outside effects us because we have all we want and need stuffed in the backseat of my grandma’s car.