The Sounds of the Season

article by MEREDITH MCKINNIE

Christmas is synonymous with lists, whether they be grocery lists, song lists, gift buying lists, etc – notably with small children, it can feel like a lot to do. With the hustle of the season, we all want to make sure everything is pristine for the biggest holiday of the year. And yet, we also want to enjoy the season and most importantly, remember it. When I heard my first holiday song this year – the day after Halloween – I started thinking about the sounds of the season. Christmas delights the senses; more is more, and while the smells instantly evoke memory, the sounds surround us constantly.

I’m not a baker, though I love cooking. But at Christmas, I’ve started baking with the girls. We took it to the extreme last year, filling holiday tubs with millionaires, mint chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter balls, coconut truffles, and shortbread. I still maintain that flour is messy, but when it’s lingering on Wilder’s nose or Fable’s fingertips, I can’t help but smile. The kitchen is my sacred space, and the girls being allowed in is a treat in itself. The typical sounds of the whirring mixer, or the cookie sheet banging the stove, or elongated moans when the first goodie is sampled, they collectively signify a break from the norm, a time to indulge, an opportunity to join Mom in the kitchen. As I believe and abide by a strict routine, the girls marvel in any deviation. Christmas allows that two-week break that reinforces the need for breaks and also necessitates a return to normalcy. Those kitchen noises resonate with me because they’re embedded with little girl chuckles, and “Oh mans,” and “please” to lick the spoon.

Any other time of year, I try to lessen the noise around me. Though extroverted, I crave alone time. When the girls are rowdy or complaining, I plug my ears with the latest podcast or musical genre that suits my isolation-hungry mood. But throughout the month of December, we are called to spaces that are overflowing with people, whether it be grandparents’ houses or holiday parties or even the grocery store aisles. Everyone is out and about, preparing or celebrating. I find that bustle alluring, perhaps because I’m off work and not in my normal rush. I like the milling about of strangers around me. I love the sound of my loved ones’ voices. I indulge the madness of children destroying Christmas presents for immediate gratification. Like the messy kitchen, the sounds of people and their inevitable mess-making potential is soothing in a strange way. Perhaps the season prompts me to pay closer attention, to lean into the intention of it all.

Another favorite involves the sounds I don’t hear, the silence behind wreath-adorned windows. Husband, the girls, and I drive around frequently to enjoy the Christmas lights. We hit different neighborhoods, covering as much of the Twin Cities as possible. In the darkness, the light from the windows allows us to glimpse the families inside, the people gathered around the dinner table mid-laughter, the couples huddled on the couch, shoulder to shoulder. In the silence, I remember that our collective moments are backdropped by thousands of private interactions – jokes we’ll never understand, family dynamics we are not privy to, embraces behind closed doors. I smile whenever I see people spending time together, thankful for my little family in my presence.

A feeling or sentiment is made more vivid in its absence. Because Christmas is the culmination of the year, we can’t help but look back on the months prior, all while anticipating the new year to come. Sounds signify a moment, calling our attention to the present. Christmas does the same. This Christmas I hope you all soak up the sounds that add to your own holiday magic, that you lean into loved ones present and remember loved ones who’ve passed. I wish you and all your little families, wherever you find them, more moments and more memories.