I wish I could adequately explain all the associations “Pachelbel’s Canon in D” has for me. The song reminds me of my father, who loves the movie Ordinary People, and my mother and husband, who have put up with their spouses reciting lines from the film over many years. It reminds me of being in high school, where I read the book and watched the film twice, for two separate English classes, one of which was a class my father taught. By extension, it reminds me of the wonderful friends I spent so much time with in those high school years, some of whom were my friends outside of school, and others whom I met there. I am lucky enough that several of those people have continued to play a central role in my life.
For complicated reasons I’m not going to explain, December 22 is a day every year when I spend time thinking of these friends–crazy things we did, milestones and life events we’ve experienced, times of distance and closeness. I like to reflect on how much I’ve benefited from knowing several “extra-ordinary” people (pun deliberate) and how much they have meant to me.
“Christmas Canon” really just takes “Pachelbel’s Canon” and adds words focused on a message of expectation, sung by children. I’ve already explained my nostalgic affection for the base song. But the incorporation of youthful voices reminds me of who my friends and I were and all we have been through. It inspires me to believe we’ve continued to be and always will remain forever young, no matter what candles on the most recent cake might indicate.
Some of those friends now live far away, and I see them rarely. Others live close by, but we still don’t see each other enough. These are people, however, who are never far from my thoughts, and certainly always in my heart.
I dedicate my post today to these friends with a sincere thank you for being in my life and a hope that the New Year brings us all nothing but good things, including time with each other.
“Think where (wo)man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.” William Butler Yeats