I was right – today’s little caroling expedition was exactly what the doctor ordered, and for all of us it was a time to enjoy one other’s company and to reflect on what this season is all about. Our merry little band, which has been doing this basically every year for over a decade (I think we missed one year in there) consists of Kathy and me, Polly and Mark, plus Carthage friends Paula and Sam Waller, Steve and Carri Palmer, and Brian Schalk. I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention two young people who also lent their voices to the proceedings. Carri and Steve’s son Aaron joined us for our first stop, at Fountain Hills, to sing two solos- and at several other stops along the way our efforts were enhanced by our niece Lorelai, who is capable of a blue ribbon rendition of Jingle Bells when she’s not gripped by a sudden case of shyness. (She was not in a shy mood today, that’s for sure!)
We met at our house today at noon to glance through some music and to actually rehearse one thing- a lovely and simple choral setting of Mary Mary. Most of the rest of what we do is pretty straightforward four-part carol singing and we just do what strikes our fancy at each stop along the way.
First stop was Fountain Hills, where our good friend Henrietta Welch (a retired music teacher who is in her mid 90s and still sharp as a tack) lives. It’s also where Carri Palmer’s grandparents used to live, but they both passed away this past year (within a week of each other) and it was strange to look out on the audience and not see them in the front row. It’s become a tradition within our tradition to start out our caroling with a slightly more formal performance in the facility’s dining room – followed by refreshments. We sang about 9 things, and then – in another tradition within a tradition – I regaled the gathered listeners with “Ol’ Man River” (What could be more festive than “git a little drunk and ye lands in jail”?) by request. From there we went to seven other stops, including a rest home and a good-sized Christmas party – plus at one stop, which was our church friends Gary and Linda Green, we serenaded them right in the middle of their family gift- opening. (They live around the corner from Lynn and Walter, who unfortunately weren’t home.)
When I think back to the various people for whom we have caroled over the years, it’s interesting to think about sometimes singing for people who seem to be pretty much alone. . . trying to hang in there in the face of tough odds . . . and the next stop might be a house packed to the gills with dozens and dozens of people in full party mode. This season can be such a bewildering mix – so deliciously joyful when life is good and so poignantly painful when it’s not. We have had times over the years when we have sung for people who were celebrating what was undoubtedly their last Christmas. . . and sometimes those people were relatives or family friends. Many the time has been when we’ve had to sing through a gigantic lump in our collective throats. I especially think of one of our first times out when we sang for Paula’s elderly uncle, dying of cancer – and of what a poignant picture it was of Paula sitting beside him in his wheelchair, tenderly holding his hand as we sang Silent Night. Tears were falling down many faces in that moment. Tonight’s final stop was my friend Playford Thorson’s house. We sang for them last year and I would have bet anything that it was going to be Playford’s last Christmas. But lo and behold, even with the ravages of Lou Gehrig’s Disease, Playford has hung in there for another whole year and was there tonight to enjoy our caroling once again. I was expecting it to be a tough time – and even mentioned to my fellow carolers that Playford sometimes gets much more emotional now than he ever did before, so they might be prepared – but actually our time at the Thorsons was rather light-hearted, due in large part to the presence of 3-year-old Lorelai. She obviously had no idea whatsoever of the sad story of Playford and Kathy- she just knew that they had a really really cute cat in their living room and she delighted in playing with it. . . and then got it into her head that it would be fun to tickle Playford! So Lorelai ended up making this last stop so much more light-hearted than it might otherwise have been, and of course she had no idea of what a godsend she was.
Other neat moments today – We tried to sing for a dear lady from the Racine Theater Guild, Vy Yorgen, who lost her husband earlier this year, but unbeknownst to us, she moved last week – but at least we got to help her son move her old stove out of the house and into the back of his van. (Nothing says Christmas like moving heavy appliances.) We had great fun singing for Paula’s mom and dad, Catherine and Charles Heide, who were celebrating their 52nd wedding anniversary today. (In honor of that occasion, we sang Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring, which was their processional, plus I Remember it Well from “Gigi.”) We also serenaded one of Kathy’s favorite people, Roger (I’m forgetting his last name), a teacher at Schulte Elementary for almost forty years. (He taught there from the day it opened its doors.) He is now wheelchair-bound but has never let that slow him down very much. As we drove up to their house, Roger’s wife was in the middle of loading him into their van so they could get to mass. We gathered around them in the driveway and caroled for them right then and there. We’re nothing if we’re not flexible !
Our rehearsal started about noon and we walked back into our house a few minutes after eight o’clock tonight. . . so we really did some serious caroling today and tonight (with a quick break for dinner) but the time just raced by and I think most of us would have gladly gone on even longer. What can possibly feel better than singing together- and especially singing when you know that you’re bringing some light and joy into people’s lives? And through something so simple!
pictured: Singing at the nursing home where Carri Palmer’s Grandma Albright lives.