Standing in the middle of my closet this morning, wet hair dripping into my eyes, I drew a blank.
"Why are you in here?" I asked myself.
"What are you looking for?
Who let you in?
Who are you anyway?
Name, rank and serial number?
Who's your Daddy?
Why doesn't he come and take you home?
Don't you know it's dangerous in here?
Can you count to ten?
Can you walk along this straight line without falling off?"
So many questions! The light finally came back on in my head, I found what I was looking for, put it on, and went to meet the YB for a wonderful concert of Christmas music, performed by the Mostly Pops Orchestra. If I had to chose my favourite of all the pieces they played, it would have to be Coventry Carol. Why is it that Christmas carols can leave me smiling one minute and blinking back tears the next? Memories, I guess.
"Why are you in here?" I asked myself.
"What are you looking for?
Who let you in?
Who are you anyway?
Name, rank and serial number?
Who's your Daddy?
Why doesn't he come and take you home?
Don't you know it's dangerous in here?
Can you count to ten?
Can you walk along this straight line without falling off?"
So many questions! The light finally came back on in my head, I found what I was looking for, put it on, and went to meet the YB for a wonderful concert of Christmas music, performed by the Mostly Pops Orchestra. If I had to chose my favourite of all the pieces they played, it would have to be Coventry Carol. Why is it that Christmas carols can leave me smiling one minute and blinking back tears the next? Memories, I guess.
4 comments:
Yes,!!.... & I hate that I get sentimental.
I feel like a fraud, as essentially I have become an Atheist, but the pull of old teachings (conditionings?) keep the sentiments alive.
I find small children's voices, singing, can reduce me to tears in no time flat!
Must be the 'getting old', I suppose.
some carol notes sung by choirs put a shiver down my neck. I find myself trying to sing along to the bits I used to sing when I was in the choir but my voice struggled to hit the notes then and now, well it sounds like I'm singing a different song to the choir.
I love Oh come Oh come Emmanuelle
Laughed at your going blank in your wardrobe. That happens to me all the time. The number of times I find myself in a room wondering what I came in for ... And pregnancy/motherhood made it so much worse.
I think I love Silent Night the best.
Ahh, well, living in Sydney is not compatible with white Christmases, and yet, hearing Bing sing White Christmas always makes my throat tighten up. Which is a bit weird really, I have never experienced a white Christmas, nor do I really have a desire to...?
Here Here to the forgetting who you are thing, I often answer my work phone these days saying "hello, um, um, me speaking, can I help you"? I don't blame them for doubting I can, after that!
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