Every November when Toronto’s 98.1 CHFI radio station begins their tradition of playing all Christmas music programming until Christmas Day, I am reminded of how Jim Carrey underwent CIA torture endurance training to stay sane while filming How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Although I am by no means a Grinch, hearing a non-stop stream of Christmas music for over a month causes me to grind my teeth to the point of gum recession. However, as the last Christmas of the decade approaches, I have found myself listening to Christmas music and wallowing in nostalgia much more than usual. Here are the five Christmas songs that are the most deeply connected to my childhood memories.

1. All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

In elementary school, one of my good friends was called Mariah. It is perhaps the most difficult namesake to have to deal with, next to Margaret Thatcher, Beyoncé, and Jesus Christ. The first time I heard Mariah Carey’s name was in Grade Four. One day, my teacher asked my class with a sick smile on her face if anyone knew which pop star had made headlines for demanding 20 kittens to be present while she switched on the Christmas lights in London. My friend raised her hand and said, “Mariah Carey,” with an expression of such pained resignation and bleak acceptance that I doubt it had ever befallen the face of an eight-year-old, or ever will again. Her eyes were black and appeared to say, “I have seen the face of God and it was weeping.” The image is so deeply burned into my brain that even though I have since lost touch with Mariah, whenever I hear the opening notes of this song, I think of her burdened eight-year-old soul and how tortuous her life must be.

2. Last Christmas by Wham!

One of the staple Christmas decorations in my house is a robot Santa Claus that, when it detects movement, buckles its knees and begins to sway from side to side as the chorus of this Wham! classic plays. My grandmother bought it over a decade ago and unfortunately, the ravages of time appear to have finally caught up with it as it has begun singing completely unprovoked. To make things even more horrific, the gears inside the robot have aged, so George Michael’s vocals have been reduced to a grinding mess that sounds like Santa is suffering from lockjaw. Now, when I’m in a Dollarama and this song begins to play, my flight or fight response is triggered and my pupils dilate because I truly believe that this is the year my animatronic Santa Claus will become sentient and try to murder me.

3. The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late) by Alvin and the Chipmunks

My life can be divided into BC (Before Chipmunks) and AD (After Da-Chipmunks). My Alvin and the Chipmunks phase was so intense that if I somehow met a genie in 2007 and got three wishes, I would have spent them all individually wishing that Alvin, Simon, and Theodore Seville became real so that I could get into hijinks with them whilst also learning about the importance of family. When I hear this song, I think of my mother, who took me to the cinemas to see Alvin and the Chipmunks and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakwel, paid full price for both DVDs, watched them multiple times with me at home, bought me several Happy Meals so I could collect all the chipmunk themed toys, and did not kick me out of the house while I incessantly sang “Oo ee oo aa aa, ting, tang, walla walla bing bang.”

4. Frosty the Snowman

When I was growing up, the only kid’s film that would play on the TV from January to November was the 2005 adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Though the ethnically ambiguous Oompa Loompas gave me the representation I craved as a young girl, this film was switched out in December for Jack Frost (1998). Michael Keaton plays a musician and an absentee father who dies in a car crash on the way to a gig on Christmas Day. He is resurrected the next year as a snowman and he teaches his son to play hockey before returning to the afterlife. This is the entire plot of the film. I am certain the CGI team were on Class A drugs because that is the only way I can imagine how someone could have envisioned and animated the snowdemon in that film. It was truly the nightmare before Christmas. Up until very recently I believed “Frosty the Snowman” was written for this movie and it was a constant puzzle to me how a story about a deadbeat dad reincarnated as an undead snowbeast could be described as, “a fairy-tale, they say.”

5. Silent Night

Years before the revolutionary musical Hamilton made waves in the performing arts, I was doing my own part to subvert racial stereotypes and challenge the status quo when I played Mary in my school’s nativity play. I’d like to think that this decision was made by an up-and-coming teacher longing to prove themselves as a creative force in their department who also wanted to provoke incisive racial commentary in the production. The alternative, of course, is that I was cast in one of the few non-speaking roles that did not require dance or movement due to my teachers’ acute awareness that if I had to do literally anything on stage, I would faint. Whatever the reasoning maybe, as I sat on the stage cradling a biro-stained doll in my hands with a chorus of five-year-olds singing “Silent Night” around me, I knew I was making strides for women of colour everywhere.

Much of the nuances of Christmas songs are lost on me. I truly thought “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” was about a child walking in on his mother having a tragic affair and coming to terms with the realization that he lives in a broken home. This is perhaps why the lyrics and tune matter much less to me than the memories connected with each song, which range from the charming and wholesome to the mildly terrifying. However you choose to celebrate festivities this December, I wish you happy holidays, a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Unless you like Madonna’s cover of “Santa Baby,” in which case you deserve coal in your stocking.