Holiday Dedications

dimitrispearljam

pandora wrote:

dimitrispearljam wrote:

to my sister in the usa
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOCZnol7 ... re=related

That was so beautiful I'm a bit fragile here. :? Thank you Dimitris, Mama's favorite song.

The world seems small for all the love you give. Bless your heart! I feel you across the miles. Merry Christmas Brother!

love you back and Merry Christmas

Jeanwah

Fruitcake for everyone on AET.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwxcFmToim8

pandora

Jeanwah wrote:

Fruitcake for everyone on AET.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwxcFmToim8

That was GREAT!!!!

Black Diamond

To my dad, who died at 11:58 on Christmas Eve 28 years ago... Very surreal watching the staff celebrate while my dad was taking his last breaths... I am very thankful I am jewish because Xmas would have lost something.

I have never cried over it eventhough we were as close as close can be... although one line from light years always gets me close...

I figured out numbers and what they're for... Dad was an accountant and I think would have been proud that I have succeeded in his field and I too figured out numbers and what they're for...

It's sad that he never got to meet his grand kids, two of whom are his spitting image...
I lost a large chunk of myself that night and it took having a family to get it back...

I always do enjoy the fact that people the world over are celebrating their families the night my dad died, because I do the same in his memory.

Poncier

Dedicated to everyone (like me) who finds stringing one strand of lights on the roofline of the house to be frustrating:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LjOrTOiyDI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HueNSMnE ... re=related

pandora

For all those with the spirit of Christmas in their hearts


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eih8Cj- ... re=related

Edna St. Vincent Millay - The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver


"Son," said my mother,
When I was knee-high,
"you've need of clothes to cover you,
and not a rag have I.

"There's nothing in the house
To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with,
Nor thread to take stitches.

"There's nothing in the house
But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman's head
Nobody will buy,"
And she began to cry.

That was in the early fall.
When came the late fall,
"Son," she said, "the sight of you
Makes your mother's blood crawl,—

"Little skinny shoulder-blades
Sticking through your clothes!
And where you'll get a jacket from
God above knows.

"It's lucky for me, lad,
Your daddy's in the ground,
And can't see the way I let
His son go around!"
And she made a queer sound.

That was in the late fall.
When the winter came,
I'd not a pair of breeches
Nor a shirt to my name.

I couldn't go to school,
Or out of doors to play.
And all the other little boys
Passed our way.

"Son," said my mother,
"Come, climb into my lap,
And I'll chafe your little bones
While you take a nap."

And, oh, but we were silly
For half and hour or more,
Me with my long legs,
Dragging on the floor,

A-rock-rock-rocking
To a mother-goose rhyme!
Oh, but we were happy
For half an hour's time!

But there was I, a great boy,
And what would folks say
To hear my mother singing me
To sleep all day,
In such a daft way?

Men say the winter
Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
And food was dear.

A wind with a wolf's head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor.

All that was left us
Was a chair we couldn't break,
And the harp with a woman's head
Nobody would take,
For song or pity's sake.

The night before Christmas
I cried with cold,
I cried myself to sleep
Like a two-year old.

And in the deep night
I felt my mother rise,
And stare down upon me
With love in her eyes.

I saw my mother sitting
On the one good chair,
A light falling on her
From I couldn't tell where.

Looking nineteen,
And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman's head
Leaned against her shoulder.

Her thin fingers, moving
In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
Wonderful things.

Many bright threads,
From where I couldn't see,
Were running through the harp-strings
Rapidly,

And gold threads whistling
Through my mother's hand.
I saw the web grow,
And the pattern expand.

She wove a child's jacket,
And when it was done
She laid it on the floor
And wove another one.

She wove a red cloak
So regal to see,
"She's made it for a king's son,"
I said, "and not for me."
But I knew it was for me.

She wove a pair of breeches
Quicker than that!
She wove a pair of boots
And a little cocked hat.

She wove a pair of mittens,
Shw wove a little blouse,
She wove all night
In the still, cold house.

She sang as she worked,
And the harp-strings spoke;
Her voice never faltered,
And the thread never broke,
And when I awoke,—

There sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder,
Looking nineteeen,
And not a day older,

A smile about her lips,
And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
Frozen dead.

And piled beside her
And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king's son,
Just my size.

PureandEasy

First off, what a nice post.

For my friend Deborah, who died a senseless tragic death in April, I miss you so much, you have no idea. This was her favorite. She used to say Eddie could sing about corn flakes and it would still be good.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xkR0ZWIbfjg

I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice, but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds
For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky

I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off your Camaro's hood

I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down

I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
I wish...
I wish...


I wish you were still with us.

pandora

One week anniversary of Boomer's passing is Christmas day and no we won't let it go.....
heaven forbid


this one is for Boomer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBdzigXa5jE

FenwayFaithful

I'd also like to dedicate Wishlist to my friend Matt who died 5 years ago. We bought Yield together that winter day in 1998. I think about him every day.

pandora

I love all the posts, some sad, some happy, all loving and touching. Rereading the thread brought some tears.
Thank you everyone for sharing these heartfelt feelings.
It is a beautiful time of the year for love!