God Bless the Child

Watching American Idol the other night I remembered being told, many years ago, that my dad’s favorite song was “God Bless the Child”, by Billie Holiday. My mom said he liked it because it was all about children making their own way without depending on anyone else, including their parents, to get through life. Huh. That didn’t compute. Was that some sort of tough love thing he had going? Is that why he didn’t leave a college fund? Is that why he didn’t feel compelled to get my flute out of hoc after it was repossessed (on the night of the concert!)? Thankfully my mom, who sold her beloved piano to buy back my flute, didn’t believe that children should should make their own way….at age 10. God Bless the Child that’s got his own….mother who loves her and would do anything for her.

Advertisements

Music Memories

I have loved music my whole life. I think I should have been born earlier because the music of the late ’60’s and early ’70’s are my favorite. Somehow I know the words to the rock music from that time, and I was only 8 and 9 years old when some of the music that I love today was most popular. Give me a Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, or Janis Joplin album any day over the music I hear on the radio driving in my car.
When I was 11, my best friend Karen and I sat on her living room floor and wrote down all the words we heard to every song on Elton John’s “Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only the Piano Player” album. What pre-teen listens to a song like “Elderberry Wine” over and over and over again?? ….I guess that’s how I know the lyrics to so many songs! It also didn’t hurt that my sister, who is 7 years older than me, had wild parties with all that music playing all night.
It really amazes me how music make me feel. So many memories are tied to certain songs. Some are good, others are sad. The song, “Memories”, by Barbara Striesand, was playing when we told my aunt that my father died. I think I remember everything about that moment because of the song. We were eating pizza at Alferno’s and it was very late at night. It seemed so sad to me, even at the age of 12, that we were listening to a song called, Memories, and that was actually all we had. That is the power of music.

Patience

I have never liked this word. I realize it now more than ever before. I know I should wait until the informational meeting. I know should look at the “how to” video. I just don’t have the patience. What if I had to pay for this blog when it was supposed to be free, but because I lack patience now I have to pay? Sometimes I convince myself that not having patience is a good thing. If I become too patient, will I become complacent? Or, if I don’t have enough patience, will I do things too quickly and not get them right? I’m so impatient I can’t even wait until Tuesday to start writing. Once I figure it out, I just want to start. Here goes…..publish!