I’m still going over all my writing from the inside and here is what I wrote a year ago today.
I fuckin’ hate Christmas music. Fuckin hate it, but the other day I heard one I can tolerate. It’s Blue Christmas by Elvis. It reminds me of my Grandma and the 70s and early 80s. Days of pretty decorative ashtrays, 8-tracks, and stereos and TVs encased in wood grain. Reminds me of her laughter and cigarette smoke circling everyone’s thoughts.
I had my earbuds on and the radio the other day when I heard this song. I was at rec, waiting amongst the hundreds of other girls for a ten minute move to be called so we could go back to our units. I was by myself, kind of behind everyone, one of the last ones, anyway. The song was playing loudly in my ears so I heard no one’s laughter, heard no other languages or any other noise other than Elvis singing of a Blue Christmas. It was one of those moments in your life when a song seems likes it’s playing in the soundtrack of your movie about your life.
The song was making me lonesome for Gram, the move was called, the crowd started moving, Elvis was still singing to me with his heart and I felt all the lonesomeness in his voice, in my life, and in my soul. I looked around and felt for every single lady there, even though half them bitches got on my nerves on a daily. Because even though they acted all hard on a daily, and even though they were laughing around me I knew in my heart every single one of them would cry at some point over the holiday season for what they used to have. Because they were here, not there.
~dlh fci waseca