And the season can start now.....

My brother reminded me that last night was the local sing along of The Messiah, by Handel.

I sang in our high school choir and chamber choir, and was directed by the notable "Mr. D". That man had a way of making us teenagers believe there was nothing more important in the world than a well sung song. Christmas was a blur performances and traveling and watching people dab their eyes as you sang your heart out for them. I loved every minute of it.

This video surfaced this year on You Tube, and the awe of this moment, of proclaiming something like this in public, still makes me cry after watching it at least a dozen times.

Mr D. always had a Christmas concert, and the last song was the Hallelujah Chorus. All the alumni who had sang in his classes before would come up from the audience to join the current choir, as students young and old packed the stage to sing this work by Handel. There was nothing like it.

(me-in the sunglasses- and my choir friends with Mr D. and his wife in Disneyland, where we went for our choir tour. 80's clothes and hair, just a bonus.)

Now when I sing it I can barely make it through the notes, which I still have proudly memorized, without a tear or two of my own.

Add to that equation a son, a teenager no less, who has suddenly picked up this love for singing, singing his part by my side, and excited about the song. We filled the chapel, and then some....shoulder to shoulder, hundreds of voices with the accompaniment of a full orchestra and none other than Mr. D. on the organ.


Moments like this seem almost surreal to me, the cycle that life is, the things that stick with us, the beauties of music and art. I felt truly blessed to experience this work (which Handel produced in it's entirety in a miraculous 24 days) and as we sat down at the end of the song (it is proper to always stand for this number) I leaned over and said to my brother, "Okay, now Christmas can come". He nodded, understanding me exactly.

On our way out of the church we noticed a new inch or two of snow covered the walks. The night was quiet, the feeling so sweet....my son grabbed the shovel at the door and started cleaning the walkway "in case the old ladies come out this way."

Then I returned home to a clean house, Christmas boxes stowed away again, candles burning, dishwasher running, and the tree sparkling and glowing.

And the Christmas spirit is here........