I’m not a very sentimental person but sometimes something triggers that emotion and tears are shed. That happened today in my car as Frank Sinatra’s voice came on the radio singing “I’ll be home for Christmas.” Frank Sinatra was big in my childhood. Although I identify as Jewish, half of my family were (they’re nearly all dead) Catholic and Frank Sinatra was a god for these first-generation Italian-Americans born and raised in Bensonhurst circa World War II.
Holidays at our house included lots of music — Frank Sinatra, Mario Lanza, and, of course, Barbra Streisand. So I guess the sound of Ole Blue Eyes smooth baritone combined with the lyrics bolted me into a few melancholy moments. Once my mother passed away — some 25 years ago — I lost the excitement I usually had during holiday time. It’s not that I get depressed but I knew I had to create new traditions and new memories. And I’ve done that.
For the past several years my partner and I do a little Chanukah and a little Christmas but in our own unique style. We spend Christmas Eve putting together holiday-wrapped packages and deliver them to homeless people on Christmas Day. I definitely didn’t do this growing up in Florida.
This year we’re traveling to see family — my in-laws — which is a bittersweet experience for me. Being around a lot of people and children tends to make me uneasy — I have little control over the sensory environment, the food, and my ability to feel comfortable. And then I remember how I celebrated the holiday with my crazy, alcohol-laden family with music blasting, lots of delicious food, and waiting until midnight to open the gifts. Mario Lanza music blasting and my mother and neighbor singing loudly. Even if they were still alive, I doubt I’d enjoy all of the stimuli.
Getting back to the aforementioned song, Frank talks about going home…if only in his dreams. What is home? Some of us may live in the same place we grew up but that sense of home may still be different for us. Maybe some family members have passed away or we just don’t have the physical or emotional strength we once had? Or, in my case, it’s both. I can go from singing along with a Christmas song on the radio to exhibiting Scrooge-like behavior in a matter of minutes.
But I will try to keep a lid on the Scrooge during my holiday visit. And if I need to, I can resort to my dreams.
May you have a peaceful holiday season.