Steven LaChance Blog

Every year, for as long as I can remember, I watched Meet Me in St. Louis with my mom. Every Christmas. That was our tradition.

She loved that movie. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was teaching me something. About music. About warmth. About how certain stories quietly become part of who we are.

She grew up in the city of St. Louis on Spring Avenue, not far from the Fox Theatre. Back then, the Fox was still a grand old movie theater, and she went there often. That’s where she first saw Meet Me in St. Louis. That’s where she fell in love with it.

My mom isn’t what she used to be. She doesn’t remember much from day to day now. And every time I visit her, there’s a quiet moment where I wait to see if she still recognizes me. Knowing that one day she might not is heartbreaking.

She taught me so much about music. And memory. And how love finds ways to stay, even when words begin to fade. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas was one of her favorites. Now it is one of mine too. The song. The movie. All of it.

I’m going to see my mom over the Christmas holiday.

I’m going home to St. Louis.

Meet me in St. Louis, Mom.

I’m on my way.