A little tap on the door. I knew who it was, but the excitement of opening the door never seems to dull.
On the other side of the door was my granddaughter Emma. Full of smiles and excitement, she flew into my arms.
“We brought you a Christmas tree, MeMe,” she exclaimed.
The smell of pine and the giggles of a little girl. Things just don’t get any better.
While I was waiting for this knock on the door, I decided to put on some Christmas records. As I was doing so, I thought of the days when I sat listening for hours to music rather than watching TV. Listening to records and daydreaming. I sang along with them. I danced to them. And, sweet memories were associated with them. Christmas was better with records.
As Daddy was cutting the end off of my new tree, Emma and I danced to old tunes. She twirled and sometimes jumped into the air. Not a lot of grace, but a great deal of effort. We danced in circles with my 69 years and her 4.
When this delightful duo left, the house seemed a bit emptier. I didn’t have the heart to decorate the tree. That needs to be saved for little people. Emma wants to put all the red balls in one spot as she did last year. Emma had turned off the record player and closed the lid. She is quite a helper. I put the records back into their sleeves. Then it hit me. Some of these records were over sixty years old. Henry Mancini, Andy Williams, Bing Crosby, Firestone records, Goodyear records. Records that Mom and Dad gave to me. And, those I bought with my own money after I moved away from home.
My children grew up with these records. Now my grandchildren will enjoy them as well. What they will not know is the joy they bring me in the remembering of special people and special times in my life that come to visit when I play these songs. I am catapulted back that lane where I was first introduced to a record player. It kept me company all through my childhood and during those teenage days of love and romance. The sleeves protect sweet memories that I took along with me into adulthood. Those dear vinyl records are a musical diary of my past. So today when I held them and played them, I opened the door to yesterday and savored the moments.
Next week my grandchildren and I will open boxes of yesterdays. Old friends, the decorations, will come out to greet me. It is that time of the year. For now, I think I just might put on a record and do a little twirling.
