This is a song... revisited

Speaking of songs and rocking chairs, I'm republishing one of my early posts when I started this blog about 5 years ago. It's one of my favorites, for someone very special ...

This is a song... can you hear me tonight?

(first published August 28, 2005)

My first grandchild... my sweet, sweet baby girl... will be twenty on her next birthday. Twenty... how can twenty years have passed when it was only yesterday that I held her in my arms, rocking and crooning her a lullaby as she drifted off to sleep?

We have a specialness, this child and I, one that began all those years ago and is bound tightly still by a rocking chair and a song. Her song... our song.

I first heard the song long before she was born, listening to the radio as I fell asleep each night. It was an instrumental tune, with a haunting, compelling melody -- one that I often found myself humming during the day. It remained in my consciousness for awhile, and then like most songs, quietly slipped into my mental jukebox, to be recalled every so often when something pushed that button.

Several years later, shortly after this beautiful child had entered my world, I was trying to comfort and quiet her little distressed self one night. I began to sing that particular song. Not with words, but in that humming, doo-do-do-doo way that we do when we don't know what the words are. She struggled mightily to keep her tiny, fluttering eyes open, but with every note, the rhythm and rocking won out, and she floated off to dreamland.

And so it began... a nightime ritual and a melody that endured thousands of miles and many months of separation. She was only a year old when she moved away to California. We saw one another a couple, three times a year those first few years, and more often the next few when she returned to Maryland. We talked on the phone a lot. Whenever we were together, we always had our special moments at bedtime -- talking and rocking and singing. Sometimes just riding in the car, a sleepy little girl would ask "sing me my doody-do song, Mommaw."

Time, distance, and life events couldn't begin to break the bond that had been formed, and even though she moved away again, our special times continued, lasting well into her teen years. Sometimes we'd lie on the floor in front of the stereo, listening and humming along to her song with the album I'd found. Sometimes I'd tease her and start singing during the day and because of it's Pavlovian effect, more often than not I'd hear "don't sing, Mommaw, you're making me sleepy!" When she became too big to rock, I sat on the side of her bed, stroking her head, holding her little hands, and doo-do-do-ing her song to quiet any hidden monsters and ease her to sleep.

I still have the rocking chair that she asked me to keep until she grew up, ready to pass on when she has her own place.* The album too. Several years ago, I made her a CD of me singing her song so she'd have it at bedtime whenever she wanted. As she's grown older, the song is still very much a part of "us" and sometimes, when I sense that she's troubled, I just hold her and sing her song. It still has that soothing effect for her.

She's going to be twenty in January, but she'll always be my sweet baby girl and I'll always have her... and her song... in my heart, ready to doo-do-do-doo in an instant's notice.

Oh, and the song? Not a traditional lullaby at all, but the warm and peaceful "Mull of Kintyre", an old Scottish bagpipe tune that Sir Paul McCartney put lyrics to in the late 70's. It went on to become the 4th top selling single of all time in the UK.

Mull of Kintyre

Words by McCartney-Laine
Album: Wings Greatest

Chorus:

Mull of Kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh Mull of Kintyre.

Far have I travelled and much have I seen
Dark distant mountains with valleys of green.
Past painted deserts the sunset's on fire
As he carries me home to the Mull of Kintyre.

Chorus

Sweep through the heather like deer in the glen
Carry me back to the days I knew then.
Nights when we sang like a heavenly choir
Of the life and the time of the Mull of Kintyre.

Chorus

Smiles in the sunshine and tears in the rain
Still take me back where my memories remain
Flickering embers grow higher and higher
As they carry me back to the Mull of Kintyre.

Chorus.

*duly passed on... see previous post :-)

Time marches on...

You know you're getting old when a familiar product, one that's been on the market for nearly 60 years, and one that you've been using forever, sloooowly starts disappearing from your retail shelves. When you find yourself scouring the Internet trying to find what you want, you know it's only a matter of time before another of your favorites goes the way of the dinosaur... total extinction.

I don't know if it's a consequence of geographic location or demographics or what, but it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to find Evyan's White Shoulders scent a.n.y.w.h.e.r.e in Frederick County!! I used to be able to pick it up at almost any of our local department stores, but the last place I found it was on a visit south, at one of those discount stops off the highway in North Carolina. Now, I know I live in farm country, but surely - surely even farm folks like to smell something other than cow manure!


Anyway, occasionally I wear it, but for the most part, I like to spray it on the pillows when the beds get made or changed. It's one of those special little indulgences I allow myself because I love sinking into the soft aroma as I drift off to sleep. Guests tell me it's a nice welcoming touch and my grands think it smells like mommaw's house. :) In recent years, I've also switched almost exclusively to White Shoulders bath/dusting powder, because ironicially, (a) it was easier to find than my primary powder of Tova or L'air Du Temps, which for some reason have become more of a Christmas special-packaging deal, and (b) it was a heck of a lot cheaper. Hah! It's still cheaper, but so much for easier! And, cheaper won't matter when it disappears altogether!
So, here I am, bemoaning what appears to be inevitable change, and resorting to the Internet to fill my smell good needs cuz I'm diddly-damned if I'm going to drive all over the east coast looking for the stuff.

You also know you're getting old when the highlight of your day is receiving a couple of boxes of bath powder in the mail!! ;) (scroll down and check out the post beneath this one.)

*sniff*

There's nothing more special than to get the most beautiful Mother's Day card from your grown (43 yrs grown) child with loving words that bring you to your knees and dissolve you into a puddle of happy tears. I am such a fortunate woman. :)

It's time...

...for a new purse. It's definitely time. The one I'm hauling around is, at the very minimum, at least 15 years old. Probably more like 18, but the farthest back I can clearly recall is when my #1 grandson was still in his mama's tummy. She had one very similar and we kept getting them mixed up.

Funny thing is, other than being older than dirt and having a few minor wear spots on the exterior, there's really nothing wrong with it. The zippers still work, the inside lining/pockets aren't torn, and the strap is still attached. It doesn't even smell like smoke or have bits and pieces of tobacco living in the corners. I've got more wear and tear on me! And trust me when I tell you - I didn't spend big bucks on this thing either. Probably picked it up at JCPenney or Bon Ton or one of those places, but we're not talking Coach or Prada or Louis Vuitton here. How did I ever luck out and manage to find such a durable product?

There used to be a time, back in the day, when I was possessed of a bit more class and a lot more style. I changed purses like I changed underwear. Well, maybe not that frequently, but you know what I mean. My purses matched or coordinated with what I wore. Now, I haven't changed it in years and my trusty ol' black purse follows me everywhere, regardless of what I wear. Yep, it's more than served its purpose.

So, despite being familiar and comfortable with it for lo, these many years, it's waaay past time to suck it up, go shopping, and get myself a new one... maybe two. Frugalness is one thing, but this is ridiculous. Besides that, I'm really sick to death of looking at it... wanna peek?

Thursday 13 #8: 13 Things in my purse...

13 Things I Drag Around in my Purse

1. a ratty ol' wallet that weighs a ton and a half from all the coins it holds - A friendly suggestion: don't ever buy a pink eelskin wallet. It won't wear out... ever... but it will get so irreversibly smudged and dirty that you'll wish it would!

2. sunglasses/case - in a prescription sorely needing renewal




3. a credit card/driver's license case - with an expired license in it




4. a tiny little (about 2"x2") metal tape measure - never know when you'll need to measure for windows, beds, tables, or floors when you're out and about



5. an assortment of pens - most of which are out of ink



6. keys - on a ring/chain with a big ol' diamond-shaped faux crystal hanging on the end


7. a sample bottle of Caswell Massey Sandalwood lotion, lifted from a NJ Marriott Hotel - a perfect purse size, it smells yummy


8. a pack of toilet seat covers - no explanation needed


9. a wallet-matching cosmetic case that holds everything but cosmetics - comb, lip balm, mirror, safety pins, sewing kit, dental floss, ibuprofen, pre-moistened lens wipes, emery board, etc.



10. a travel-size tissue packet



11. an albuterol inhaler


12. Certs spearmint-flavored mints



13. various and sundry notes, bits of paper, wrappers, tear strips - stuff!



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