Frosty

Day 53

I just trashed the last two blog posts I wrote. I have a few things on my mind, but putting thoughts into words and making it cohesive just is not happening for me tonight. Perhaps it is not the right time because my thoughts were more serious in nature. So now, I switch gears for the third time. Let’s see how this goes.

Memories of My Children

Today I continued to unpack more Christmas decor. I found more ornaments and decorations that my children made throughout the years.

I cut open the tape, open the cardboard flaps and memories come pouring out. I can see my children — both small and delighted about all the excitement that surrounds Christmas. I can hear their young voices playing over and over in my head. It’s magical how the mind works. It is a gift to be able to hold on to the cherished memories and yet pack away those memories we wish to forget.

I vividly remember how proud my children were when they brought home creations they made with guidance from their very patient teachers. At the time, it seemed like they grew so slowly, but looking back, the time has flown. That’s the thing about life.

Frosty the Snowman

One of my oldest decorations is a ceramic Frosty. He’s designed to have a candle inside him, but I never put candles inside. It sat on the table as sort of a centerpiece.

At dinner, my children always had a 1-A-Day vitamin after they ate. I can still remember them feeding their vitamins to Frosty over and over until either they tired of it or mom intervened and made them take their vitamin.

Every Day is Special

All I have to share tonight is to tell you that every little moment is special. These moments become the memories that you hold close throughout your life. And when your children are grown and living on their own, these are the memories that will comfort and sustain you.

These are also the stories you will tell your grandchildren about their parents. They love to hear all about the times when their parents were young like they are.

“Parents, keep your children closer when they are young,
because they will keep you closer when you’re old” 
Zybejta Beta Metani’ Marashi

 

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Music and Memories

Day 20

This morning I started my day responding to the wonderful comments people have left on my blog. It gives me insight into what I am writing and how people are responding. We all see and hear differently and that is part of what makes this journey so interesting to me.

I then moved on to reading my co-blogger’s blogs. I am always inspired by what they write and sometimes, like today, those blogs spark a memory in me that serve as an inspiration for my blog. Today, that inspiration came from Tanya’s blog about her favorite music.

So many major moments in my life have been highlighted with music but music also seems to surround all the everyday moments in my life as well.

Childhood Memories

My Paternal Grandparents

My paternal grandfather was a gentle giant. Those are always the words I choose to describe him. As a young girl, l remember him sitting me on his knee and singing “Old Dan Tucker”, an old ‘folk’ song that has as many added lyrics as it does explanations of its origin.

My paternal grandmother played the ukulele and sang a little. I remember her playing and singing “Little Mohee”. I can still close my eyes and see her sitting in my grandfather’s red recliner. When she sat down you could always see her nylons rolled just below the knees. I can see her strumming the ukulele, her gray hair braided and rolled into a bun singing this song.

Of course both of these songs are probably not politically or socially correct, but they are the songs my memories are made of.

Broken Records – Broken Hearts

The first time I realized how important music could be to someone I was probably about 7 years old. My grandmother had a Victrola in one of the upstairs bedrooms. She had maybe 10 or so 78 rpm records.

One day she was upstairs listening to records and cleaning. I came bouncing in the room, ran and jumped up and sat on the bed. Then I heard it. A deep cracking sound. My grandmother had laid one of the records on the bed and I broke it. She started to cry. I will never forget it. I was so sorry I broke her record. But I discovered it wasn’t just any record. It was her favorite — “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen”.

I do not know why this record or this song was so meaningful to her. I will never forget her heartbreak, even as she hugged me and told me it would be okay. That song will always be burned into my little girl heart.

Music with Mom and Dad

My Mom and Dad loved music. When we were growing up, it was the music of Chubby Checker, Sonny James and Eddy Arnold. We sang in the car frequently. It seemed we were always traveling somewhere. Lots of folk songs and silly songs and songs we learned at camp.

I also learned the music of Vaughn Monroe (“Racing with the Moon”), Ned Miller (“From a Jack to a King”) and also The Browns (“The Old Lamplighter”). I most associate those songs with my Mom.

When riding in the car, everyone would drift off to sleep. I was always the one awake keeping my Dad company. I can still hear my Dad’s deep bass voice singing the hymn “Steal Away”. It always calmed me to hear him sing so gently. Many of the songs and hymns my family loved were old Negro spirituals – and “Steal Away” was one of the best.

Singing from the Heart

I mentioned the hymns which my family sang. My mother’s favorite was “His Eye is on the Sparrow” which still brings me great comfort. My paternal grandmother always sang “Peace in the Valley” as she cleaned house. I can almost hear her now.

When my sister passed away a few years ago, my niece asked my daughter (her cousin) to sing at my sister’s funeral. My sister and my daughter were so close I did not think she would be able to do it. But she did. Beautifully. She sang my sister’s favorite hymn — “In the Garden”. She stood in the front of the church and said she wanted to sing the way our family always sang — a cappella. It is one of the most difficult and most beautiful moments of my life.

So Much More

There is so much more to write about this, but the memories this post brought up for me have me spent for today. I will revisit this at some later time.

“Where words fail, music speaks.” 
Hans Christian Andersen