My Mother and My Pepe. What a picture for me.My second year participating in a "Molloy Tradition" occurred last weekend. We went to the Berkshires in Massachusetts to enjoy the Tanglewood Music Festival. I say "enjoy" but this year, given chilly weather and hard rain, it was a bit more difficult to "enjoy".
I'll get to the details of Tanglewood (and the trip itself) in another post but, today, I want to write about a James Taylor song. What I am about to say is something I had never verbalized before last weekend when I said something to Aaron, but I'm going to write it here. You may not understand or fully grasp what I'm about to write and that's okay. You don't have to. I get it, and that's why I want to write it.
Many years ago, probably 13 years ago or more, the James Taylor song, You've Got a Friend came on the radio. I was in the car going somewhere with my Dad and he said, off-handed to me, "Oh, this was your Mother's graduation song." We all had one; mine was 1999 by Prince. My Mother graduated high school June 16, 1971. Exactly 10 years later, to the day, I was born.
The next time the song came on the radio, knowing it was her graduation song, I really listened to the words. Most of you know the song; it's pretty simple, but to me, it was much more. I remember listening and imagining my Mom graduating high school, not knowing where her life would bring her, or that I would arrive exactly ten years later. I imagined her healthy, young and full of hope about the life ahead of her.
Every time I heard the song after that I would feel sad and nostalgic.
My Mom was a regular smoker for about 30 or so years, give or take -- give, I think. Because of this I worried about her-- a lot. Part of me even hated her a little bit. I felt with each drag from her "cancer-stick" she was robbing me of time with her- taking away from me my right to have a mother, my children's right to know their Meme. I was even a little jealous of my nephew because he had spent time with Meme. Would my kids ever know Meme Goose, or would they remember her from my stories? I really worried about her health.
She knew, I think, deep down inside that I worried. I even recall a moment at Christmas, which must have been about 10 years ago now, she gave me a professional photograph of her. If you know my Mom you know that she is by NO MEANS vain. She is not the type to get professional photos taken of her. The minute I opened the beautiful picture of my mother I just looked from her- to the photograph - back to her. I was confused. Why would she give me this? Granted, I loved it, but this was unlike my Mother. She must have known what I was thinking because she lightened the mood and I remember her saying "Don't worry, I'm not dying. I won a contest and that was the prize." Relief swept over me.
Whenever You've Got a Friend would come on the radio I would either have to change it, or face it and well up with tears. I would wonder if, in 15 years, when my mother was "gone" what would the song mean to me then? Would I think about her as she was, in the moment I was hearing the song, or would I remember her as I imagined; graduating high school, so full of hope, healthy and with her whole life ahead of her? It was impossible for me to not be emotional when I would hear the song.
More than a year ago I was up at camp. I swung by my Mom's house to pick something up, or visit-- I don't remember. I was there for a while and after a few hours I noticed my mother hadn't lit up. It sounds strange that I would notice this, but it was something I was always hyper-aware of. It was something that had been conditioned in me since I was small; when Mom lights up- go away. It was my natural reaction. I hate(d) smoking. That day, I thought for a moment, retracing the few hours that had passed, running over in my mind if I had seen her smoke since I had arrived. I knew Dan had quit, but I didn't think my Mom would have. Honestly, I thought they would kill her.
J: "Mom, you haven't smoked a cigarette in a few hours?"
M: "Oh, yeah, I quit a few weeks ago."
Just like that. That is typical "Mom." She'll do something and not tell anyone. I guess I'm a lot like that too. We never talked about it, really, after that point in time. She didn't tell anyone else and neither did I. Maybe I told my sister, or maybe she noticed. I don't remember.
There are no words to describe what it was like for me to hear those words. I couldn't believe it. I know it sounds dramatic but, honestly, there wasn't a birthday candle or a shooting star that ever escaped my wish; "please let my Mom have the strength to stop smoking." Every single time- that's exactly what I would wish.
At Tanglewood this year the theme was "James Taylor and Friends." Last weekend we saw James Taylor with friends: Yo-Yo Ma and Sheryl Crow. The weather was horrible, and everyone was cold and uncomfortable. All night I sat there- just waiting for it. I can't even remember the last time I heard the song. I knew it had to be coming. I was so scared everyone was going to throw in the towel and leave before I heard it. I wouldn't have blamed them; we were soaked to the bone, everything was wet, and it was so cold we could see our breath.
Then it happened. I heard the first few strings on his guitar. James Taylor was singing my Mother's song- live in concert. I waited to see what feelings would rush over me. Would I envision my Mother accepting her diploma with eyes full of hope? Would I be sad and nostalgic? Would I feel nothing at all? Oddly, instead, this time I thought of the past year of memories I have built with my mother. A year that, I feel, I grew closer to her and more appreciative of our relationship. For the first time, hearing her song, I was hopeful about my Mother's future.
I'll get to the details of Tanglewood (and the trip itself) in another post but, today, I want to write about a James Taylor song. What I am about to say is something I had never verbalized before last weekend when I said something to Aaron, but I'm going to write it here. You may not understand or fully grasp what I'm about to write and that's okay. You don't have to. I get it, and that's why I want to write it.
Many years ago, probably 13 years ago or more, the James Taylor song, You've Got a Friend came on the radio. I was in the car going somewhere with my Dad and he said, off-handed to me, "Oh, this was your Mother's graduation song." We all had one; mine was 1999 by Prince. My Mother graduated high school June 16, 1971. Exactly 10 years later, to the day, I was born.
The next time the song came on the radio, knowing it was her graduation song, I really listened to the words. Most of you know the song; it's pretty simple, but to me, it was much more. I remember listening and imagining my Mom graduating high school, not knowing where her life would bring her, or that I would arrive exactly ten years later. I imagined her healthy, young and full of hope about the life ahead of her.
Every time I heard the song after that I would feel sad and nostalgic.
My Mom was a regular smoker for about 30 or so years, give or take -- give, I think. Because of this I worried about her-- a lot. Part of me even hated her a little bit. I felt with each drag from her "cancer-stick" she was robbing me of time with her- taking away from me my right to have a mother, my children's right to know their Meme. I was even a little jealous of my nephew because he had spent time with Meme. Would my kids ever know Meme Goose, or would they remember her from my stories? I really worried about her health.
She knew, I think, deep down inside that I worried. I even recall a moment at Christmas, which must have been about 10 years ago now, she gave me a professional photograph of her. If you know my Mom you know that she is by NO MEANS vain. She is not the type to get professional photos taken of her. The minute I opened the beautiful picture of my mother I just looked from her- to the photograph - back to her. I was confused. Why would she give me this? Granted, I loved it, but this was unlike my Mother. She must have known what I was thinking because she lightened the mood and I remember her saying "Don't worry, I'm not dying. I won a contest and that was the prize." Relief swept over me.
Whenever You've Got a Friend would come on the radio I would either have to change it, or face it and well up with tears. I would wonder if, in 15 years, when my mother was "gone" what would the song mean to me then? Would I think about her as she was, in the moment I was hearing the song, or would I remember her as I imagined; graduating high school, so full of hope, healthy and with her whole life ahead of her? It was impossible for me to not be emotional when I would hear the song.
More than a year ago I was up at camp. I swung by my Mom's house to pick something up, or visit-- I don't remember. I was there for a while and after a few hours I noticed my mother hadn't lit up. It sounds strange that I would notice this, but it was something I was always hyper-aware of. It was something that had been conditioned in me since I was small; when Mom lights up- go away. It was my natural reaction. I hate(d) smoking. That day, I thought for a moment, retracing the few hours that had passed, running over in my mind if I had seen her smoke since I had arrived. I knew Dan had quit, but I didn't think my Mom would have. Honestly, I thought they would kill her.
J: "Mom, you haven't smoked a cigarette in a few hours?"
M: "Oh, yeah, I quit a few weeks ago."
Just like that. That is typical "Mom." She'll do something and not tell anyone. I guess I'm a lot like that too. We never talked about it, really, after that point in time. She didn't tell anyone else and neither did I. Maybe I told my sister, or maybe she noticed. I don't remember.
There are no words to describe what it was like for me to hear those words. I couldn't believe it. I know it sounds dramatic but, honestly, there wasn't a birthday candle or a shooting star that ever escaped my wish; "please let my Mom have the strength to stop smoking." Every single time- that's exactly what I would wish.
At Tanglewood this year the theme was "James Taylor and Friends." Last weekend we saw James Taylor with friends: Yo-Yo Ma and Sheryl Crow. The weather was horrible, and everyone was cold and uncomfortable. All night I sat there- just waiting for it. I can't even remember the last time I heard the song. I knew it had to be coming. I was so scared everyone was going to throw in the towel and leave before I heard it. I wouldn't have blamed them; we were soaked to the bone, everything was wet, and it was so cold we could see our breath.
Then it happened. I heard the first few strings on his guitar. James Taylor was singing my Mother's song- live in concert. I waited to see what feelings would rush over me. Would I envision my Mother accepting her diploma with eyes full of hope? Would I be sad and nostalgic? Would I feel nothing at all? Oddly, instead, this time I thought of the past year of memories I have built with my mother. A year that, I feel, I grew closer to her and more appreciative of our relationship. For the first time, hearing her song, I was hopeful about my Mother's future.
Not a soul in the crowd of thousands, except for Aaron, knew what was going on for me at that moment it time. I don't even know as I write this, with tears flowing down my cheeks, if I am even coming close to translating the feelings I had Friday night. But as I sat there, soaked to the bone and shivering, I was so thankful for the rain because it masked the tears of relief and hope streaming down my cheeks.
I am taking back my Mother's song. From this point forward it will no longer torture me, but encourage me.
I am taking back my Mother's song. From this point forward it will no longer torture me, but encourage me.
2 comments:
Damn it. Why did you have to post that TODAY of all days lol. I made it through dropping off my baby to first grade without any tears but now, tears are streaming down my cheeks, I was a ticking time bomb and that's all it took to make it go off.
That was a lot of sharing for you, and I am sure it was hard. I am glad you posted it though, and I agree 100000% with everything you said.
now you made me cry too.love you
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