“Happy December 1st!” I answered my phone my senior year at Albion College. I fondly remember my friend Matt laughing, hanging up the phone, and calling back to see if the results would be the same.

They were.

“Happy December 1st” is how I answer my phone on this day–the beginning of my Holiday Season.

As a child, my parents woke my brother Jeff and me with the musical tones of the Ray Conniff singers. To this day we debate whether said song was “Jingle Bells” or “Here Comes Santa Claus.” This year, we will just have to agree to disagree since there is no one to confirm or deny … This was our first December 1st without both of our parents.

It’s a rudderless feeling, the loss of the two pivotal people who were always there. People ask if I’m okay, which is a question difficult to answer. On one hand, I’m fine. On the other, I miss them desperately, and I’m a bit lost. Peace comes from my faith though, knowing that they are together and that they loved us–and will always love us. In knowing that whatever next step I take, I don’t take it alone. People who love me and care about me are all around me.

So today, I decorated my home with my own specially curated Holiday decorations–items purchased over the years since I moved out on my own and then later when I began family traditions with my husband Doug and our two kids–kids who are now adults and are doing exactly what I did all those years ago! Yet amidst my decorations–which are quite extensive–are select items from those my parents displayed. The result means that decorating for Christmas is more than a one day activity. There are more bins than there used to be! It’s a 2+ day project that leaves my lower back a little more sore than I recall in season’s past and my home a bit more festive.

After completing this project and then indulging in a much needed Peppermint bubble bath soak, I sit here happily with Christmas Jazz playing and snowflakes falling (thanks to You Tube) enjoying what has always begun on December 1st. The miracle of the Christmas Holidays. It’s different this year–I know that. And as I woke this morning, my first thoughts were of my parents, who loved the holidays, loved decorating their home, and collected more Santas than anyone should ever possess.

A few of those Santas have been assimilated by me–others by my brother, my kids, and my nieces.

There’s truly sense of peace that comes from knowing that though my parents are no longer here physically, the traditions they developed when Jeff and I were kids will continue. Each grandkid has a CD copy of The Ray Conniff Christmas Album. And this morning, my brother Jeff called me at 7am to ring in the season with “Jingle Bells” and wish me a Happy December 1st. Next year, I’ll ring in with “Here Comes Santa Claus”–or perhaps one of my kids will assume the torch. One way or another, on December 1st, the Holidays will begin and my phone will ring bright and early. And even in my grogginess, I will smile and choose gratitude.

December 1st is a beginning … a reminder of the importance of family and staying connected with the people I love. I like to think Dad and Mom are pleased to see us carrying on something they started by simply playing a record and waking us up at the crack of dawn.

Yes, my home is festive. If it could speak, everything displayed could share its own origin story. There is no simple “decoration.” And as I look about, I smile and find Joy in knowing that somewhere in time my parents are calling and Ray Conniff is reminding me to honor the season, to enjoy my family, to spend time laughing and celebrating with friends, and to keep playing the music that has always brought Joy into my life.

“Jingle Bells”? “Here Comes Santa Claus”? Who can say … but when I get the call from Jeff–or he gets the call from me–Happy December 1st will always the greeting. But I love you and I’m grateful to share this special time of year with you will always be the subtext.

Happy December 1st.

— Jenni