This was my third time seeing the carols. As a young teenage girl, I read the book and fell in love with the story and the carols. In fact, this year is one of the first years I have not listened to the soundtrack as I decorated my tree. It has probably been 8 to 10 years since I last saw the carols being performed, but I remembered it almost perfectly. Honestly I was a little scared to go. I'm far from religious but this show always seems to make me cry and I have had enough crying to last me a while.
I made it through the first 30 minutes; cool and collected. Then the stupid song about Mary letting someone hold her baby (the baby Jesus) so she could rest and it changed this lady's life because she could never be a mother, but it made her feel like one. Ahh! Tear jerker! My cute little sister sitting to my left, who IS a mother, takes one look at the tears that are running down my cheek, reaches over and holds my hand. She knows. She knows heartache and fear that I suppress. Always cool and collected on the outside but slightly tormented on the inside. At least when it comes to the subject of children. Then my Dad, who is on right, notices my snitch tears and puts his gigantic hand on my leg. Luckily intermission was shortly after that song so I was able to pull myself back together.
At the end of the concert, Mr. McLean who is staring and narrating the show, leads the audience in a giant sing-along complete with linking arms to the person next to you.
"Everybody now! We can be together forever someday! We can be together forever someday! We can be together forever sooommmmeeee DAAAAYYYY!"
*insert giant eye rolling and slight feeling of nausea*
I was definitely in the middle of my biggest nightmare-de ja vu-flashback of my upbringing. But it was, after all, Christmas and my Mother had gone to the trouble of organizing the outing. Anything to bring a little spirituality into her heathen daughters life.
Being in the middle of a Mormon concert has it's advantages however. Like the people watching. I swear to you I have never seen so many tacky Christmas sweaters in one place! As soon as the show was over I told my sister "quick! Grab out your camera phone and start taking pictures of the Christmas sweaters!"
Unfortunately the only pictures I was able to capture were of my own mothers hideous sweater.
Mom: "Why are you taking pictures of me? You're not going to put this on your blog are you?"
Me: "Of course I am."
Mom: "I want you to know that there is a whole womens center at my work who wears sweaters like this. You tell them the 50 year old women are rebelling!"
Me: "OK Mom."
Mom: "And you're writing about the concert too?"
Me: "Of course."
Mom: "...and you will only talk about it with...?"
Me: "Complete respect."
Mom: "Good girl."
Blogfully yours,
Summer
3 comments:
Respect is the least you can give your mother for Christmas!
Christmas has weird way of making us all sentimental.
But I guess that's what it's for. If you didn't get emotional...you'd probably be a robot.
But that could be kind of cool too, I guess.
I think you are the only person in Salt Lake City who doesn't make me feel like a chump for loving every saccharine drop of Christmas!
Maybe the carol about the baby-sitter isn't about her finally getting to be a mother. Maybe she was happy because she realized she had a gift to nurture, even though it wasn't the picture she always imagined.
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