At the end of a busy day yesterday, I lay in bed drifting off to sleep and realized I hadn’t done my blog post o’ day. And then these two words came to mind: “Oh well.”
I didn’t have anything to share for Watercolor/Crafty Wednesday, anyway. I was going to look through some of my art work of yore and post that, but I didn’t even get that far. Again, oh, well. Next week, perhaps!
I took my mom to see her eye doctor again today. As we waited in the office, I thought she might enjoy listening to an old favorite album: “Songs of the Sea” by the Norman Luboff Choir; it only took a moment to find it on Spotify. She had been sitting somewhat listlessly, but as I played the opening song, she perked up considerably.
Oh Shenandoah…I long to hear you
Away, you rolling river
Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you
Away, we’re bound away, ‘cross the wide Missouri
She told me once that she always remembered the first time she heard the Norman Luboff choir singing something on the radio. She had been coming downstairs and was so moved by it, she sat down on the stairs and listened, completely mesmerized. She’s always loved men’s choirs and after hearing this, she bought a couple of their albums and I grew up listening to them: “Songs of the West” and “Songs of the Sea.”
Oh, have you heard the news, my Johnny
One more day
We’re homeward bound tomorrow
One more day
Only one more day, my Johnny, one more day
Oh, rock and roll me over
One more day.
When the appointment was over, we got in the car and the album was still playing. She finds it very hard to remember anything these days, but as we sang those songs together on the way home, she sang the words with confidence. We harmonized at times and hardly spoke a word.
Rolling home, rolling home
Rolling home across the sea
Rolling home to dear old England
Rolling home dear land to thee.
The album goes back and forth between slow, contemplative songs and energetic, foot-tapping songs. Pretty soon, she was slapping her knee and I was slapping the steering wheel to the beat.
O say was you ever in Rio Grande?
Way, you Rio
It’s there that the river runs down golden sand
For we’re bound for the Rio Grande.
And then we’d slow down and croon during songs like this one:
The ship goes sailing down the bay
Goodbye, my lover, goodbye.
We may not meet for many a day
Goodbye my lover, goodbye.
I realized I was driving quite slowly so it would take longer to get back to where I’d be dropping her off. Time for another fast one.
I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
A roving, a roving, since roving’s been my ru-i-in,
I’ll go no more a roving with you, fair maid!
As we were pulling into the parking lot, “Lowlands” was playing. I told her we were not going to leave the car until that song was over, so we just sat in the car and finished it out.
I dreamed a dream the other night
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John
My love she came, all dressed in white
Lowlands, lowlands, away.
Time to go. I’ll never be able to listen to those songs now without thinking of our sweet little concert in the car. And the memory itself will be sweet. I gave her a big hug and said goodbye.
Goodbye, my mother, goodbye.
I’ll probably delete this after one more day, my Johnny, one more day…
