By Lorry Myers
I love to sing but I am not a singer. Still, I belt it out in the shower, in the car, and in the kitchen. I sing in all those places and when I do, I never notice that I am horribly off key.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
I grew up in a house of singers, my mother the biggest singer of all. She encouraged singing as we dried dishes or rode in a crowded car. Between my mother, my school and church choir, I have an assorted repertoire of songs.
Christmas carols are my favorite.
In the shower, Little Drummer Boy sounds clear and light. In the kitchen, O Little Town of Bethlehem fills the room and seasons the food that I prepare. In the car, Deck the Halls and Twelve Days of Christmas makes the miles slip away.
Why wait for Christmas to sing a Christmas song?
I used to sing Old Holy Night any night of the week, and in any month of the year simply because I love the meaning and the message and the way that song makes me feel. The first time my husband heard my out-of-tune, out-of-season singing, he didn’t seem to mind my broken voice or my choice of songs.
Randy just let me sing.
When my children were little, my random Christmas carol singing seemed to spread chaos instead of good cheer. In May, when The First Noel was heard coming from my shower, my son ran to his father in a panic, demanding why no one told him it was Christmas. On a summer road trip, I started Jolly Old St. Nicholas, and my oldest daughter began crying afraid we would not be home for Santa. I soloed a Christmas tune on President’s Day and my youngest daughter assumed it was the season and spent hours circling things in last year’s catalog that Santa wouldn’t deliver for months.
It wasn’t my singing that made her cry.
After that, my husband declared, “It’s too confusing! From now on, you can’t sing Christmas songs until the day after Thanksgiving.”
“You can’t sing Christmas songs until the day after Thanksgiving, and no Christmas songs after January 1st!” Mr. Scrooge announced.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard