... I don't think there has been, a few of the canonical carols aside, a more beautiful Christmas song, or any that captures so perfectly what the holiday becomes as we grow up, grow away from our childhoods and their certainties, and even (so sadly, unlike its greatest singer) grow old.
We will have a merry day, the three of us; Mr. Muscato, Koko, and I are driving down the spectacular coast of this lovely country, to have a bang-up lunch with a big group of friends on the roof of a rambling villa by the sea. We will have Champagne and turkey and (some of these friends being Brits) very likely crackers and paper crowns. Later, as the day fades, we will have (some of these friends being Italian) incredible desserts and strong tiny glasses of grappa.
There will be a child or two, to make the day more Christmassy, and people's parents and, I believe, a grandmother who's daringly made the flight down. It will be lovely.
But even so, as happens, there will be other, parallel days in at least some of our heads; Christmas mornings past, with sharp sudden memories of those long gone; Christmas mornings that never were, possibilities that didn't happen; and even Christmas mornings yet to come, that perhaps won't be so bright.
And through it all, we'll have to muddle through somehow. Today, we all will be together, and for a little while, leave all the rest to those Fates. As for you, well; have yourselves a merry little Christmas, darlings, and let your hearts be light.