Last night, I made what seemed to be an obvious decision.
Hermann's Jazz Club is featuring live-streamed concerts, and last night featured three local musicians (two of them UVic professors) interpreting the music of "A Charlie Brown Christmas", which the pianist insisting on calling "the movie". (I suspect he doesn't watch the television special much.)
I tuned in, poured myself a modest cup of brandy and egg nog, and settled in front of the computer with the Resident Fan Boy. To my horror, instead of the quiet glow I usually feel, listening to Vince Guaraldi's music played by jazz musicians, I felt an increasing weight of sadness as the hour went by.
The trio, a pianist, bassist, and drummer were masked in the nearly empty club, the only other people present being the camera crew and a handful of Hermann's servers. The pianist spent part of the time between numbers asking for donations for the club, the livestream, and the servers.
It was so bleak and joyless. I fought to enjoy the music, but eventually turned off the computer in defeat.
At this time of the month of December, we've usually put up the tree, and put on Vince Guaraldi. This is because it's usually around December 17th to 20th, that elder daughter flies in to join us. She's not coming this year; she's living in a flat in South Wimbledon.
I knew she wasn't coming, but I think, last night, it really hit me. This is our first Christmas without her.
It had to come some time, but it's extra tough in a year when so many holiday joys are being stripped away.
I really can't blame the musicians; they were doing their best.
I'm better today. We'll put up the tree tomorrow. Younger daughter is with us, and much is at stake.
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