Livin Life in These Old Black and Whites
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Mom used to play the upright piano when I was a young boy. It was magical to hear the sounds emanate from a piece of furniture that Mom dusted and touched like a religious relic.
When she played, which wasn't often, her eyes twinkled and a smile as wide as the James River brightened her face to the point of her becoming angelic. She wasn't a mother of four kids, but a young woman who understood how a song could change you. She was also a little girl who giggled as she made her little boy giggle too.
Mom always stopped when the memories of her older brothers came to her. They died a year after WWII ended. Her older brother, Junie (for Otto junior, German-Irish family) died from a wound he received in the Battle of the Bulge. Billy died in a shipyard accident.
Junie was musically gifted and could play the piano by ear. Billy, the second oldest (and the cute one as my Mom always said), would use his older brother's musical abilities to chat up the ladies as they listened to Junie play at parties during the war.
I knew when the memories would touch my mother. Her voice would catch and the playing would slow down, then stop as she talked about the uncles I never knew. As she spoke, she would smooth my hair with her hands.
"You remind me of my brothers, Mikey. You look so much like them. They were like you, you know, so full of the devil. You would have liked them." And she would stop and look at me, "I hope you play the piano some day". Then, she would kiss the top of my head and hug me.
For that reason, I took lessons as a young boy and was getting decent at it until a car accident laid me low for a while. (I still wear the small, faint telltale scars on my forehead, upper lip and around my right eye as reminders of that fateful afternoon when a part of my childhood stopped.)
After I left home for Arizona 26 years ago, Mom sold the upright to a family with a deserving daughter. I didn't understand why she cried when the piano left the house. Years later, I understood and cried a little myself. She was ready to let go of her brothers and, at the same time, let someone else enjoy the piano in their life.
It's for the same reason of letting go that I went back to Virginia last month. I had promised Mom in January at Dad's internment that I would return in April. She'd be ready for a change by then and I, as the physical reminder of her older brothers, would help her.
For ten days, we worked together as the house and yard were changed to reflect a new outlook on life. For the past twelve years, it was a house where Mom cared for Dad as he gradually slid away into Alzheimer's. She loved her dear, sweet Eddie so much and because of her memories, I was very mindful of what we changed.
Mom and I celebrated her life by finding new restaurants together; driving out to Williamsburg and Jamestown and visiting an art museum we often talked about, but never had time to see. It was a culmination of things we would have done over the years had I lived in Virginia and not Arizona.
During this time of discovery, Mom wondered what she was gonna do with her life now that her dear Eddie wasn't here. "What am I supposed to do with my life now, Mike? I cared for your Dad for so long, living each day only for him, that I stopped thinking about the future. My interests change so much and I don't have that much time to waste doing the wrong thing."
They were the kind of questions I had to ask myself a few years ago when I was gonna die in the wheelchair. I had two years to live, but I took a chance on surgery and won a new life. One in which I can walk again.
"Mom, life doesn't get much simpler than when you're facing death, no matter how much time you have left. I learned the hard way that every day is a gift and whatever you do, it's not the wrong thing or a waste. It's your life and you're here to enjoy every breath. Just focus on what your interests are right now. If they change, so be it. At least, you experienced it. And remember to love the ones around you. You'll live in their hearts long after you're gone. They'll always remember the special times with their grandmother and Mom. The neat thing about that is we get to decide what's special and a lot of times, it's just you being here."
I grinned at my Mom and we hugged. Whether she agreed with my life's creed wasn't important. She had listened to her older brothers and she would think on it.
On Easter morning, my Mom drove me to the airport for my flight out to Phoenix. She thanked me for my help and for listening. I could see it in her eyes that I wasn't the only man there. Her older brothers had come home to help her too. They'll always be in my soul as far as my Mom is concerned and I'm honored by her thought.
Our goodbyes were heartfelt, but not filled with sadness. Mom had some assignments from me and she'd promised to do them. Each one would give her more exposure to the world around her. It would be her way of safely entering the world again and she would do them at her own pace.
I knew that Junie and Billy were proud of their little sister. I was proud of my Mom too. She was gonna make it.
---
Black and Whites (Livin life in black and whites)
by Phil Vassar and Craig Wiseman
So many choices in my life these days
So much confusion, so many shades of gray
That sometimes I don't know
My left from my right
But I've got these old black and whites
Well, I'm every color that you can paint
A father, a lover, a mother, a sinner and a saint
From Sunday morning, to Saturday night
I've got these old black and whites
Under the spotlight or all alone at midnight
I know I'm right where I belong
It always unwinds me, it finds me then reminds me
That life is as simple as a song
Lovers, they come and surely they go
They fly you so high, say hello, say goodbye
And they leave you low
But that's all right here in these songs that I write
Right here on these old black and whites
Under the spotlight or all alone at midnight
I know I'm right where I belong
It always unwinds me, it finds me then reminds me
That life is as simple as a song
So roll over Beethoven
Cause ol' Phil could use a little room
I may be out of time and may be out of tune
But you know how it feels to pour out your life
Right here on these old black and whites
Livin life in black and white
---
Mom used to play the upright piano when I was a young boy. It was magical to hear the sounds emanate from a piece of furniture that Mom dusted and touched like a religious relic.
When she played, which wasn't often, her eyes twinkled and a smile as wide as the James River brightened her face to the point of her becoming angelic. She wasn't a mother of four kids, but a young woman who understood how a song could change you. She was also a little girl who giggled as she made her little boy giggle too.
Mom always stopped when the memories of her older brothers came to her. They died a year after WWII ended. Her older brother, Junie (for Otto junior, German-Irish family) died from a wound he received in the Battle of the Bulge. Billy died in a shipyard accident.
Junie was musically gifted and could play the piano by ear. Billy, the second oldest (and the cute one as my Mom always said), would use his older brother's musical abilities to chat up the ladies as they listened to Junie play at parties during the war.
I knew when the memories would touch my mother. Her voice would catch and the playing would slow down, then stop as she talked about the uncles I never knew. As she spoke, she would smooth my hair with her hands.
"You remind me of my brothers, Mikey. You look so much like them. They were like you, you know, so full of the devil. You would have liked them." And she would stop and look at me, "I hope you play the piano some day". Then, she would kiss the top of my head and hug me.
For that reason, I took lessons as a young boy and was getting decent at it until a car accident laid me low for a while. (I still wear the small, faint telltale scars on my forehead, upper lip and around my right eye as reminders of that fateful afternoon when a part of my childhood stopped.)
After I left home for Arizona 26 years ago, Mom sold the upright to a family with a deserving daughter. I didn't understand why she cried when the piano left the house. Years later, I understood and cried a little myself. She was ready to let go of her brothers and, at the same time, let someone else enjoy the piano in their life.
It's for the same reason of letting go that I went back to Virginia last month. I had promised Mom in January at Dad's internment that I would return in April. She'd be ready for a change by then and I, as the physical reminder of her older brothers, would help her.
For ten days, we worked together as the house and yard were changed to reflect a new outlook on life. For the past twelve years, it was a house where Mom cared for Dad as he gradually slid away into Alzheimer's. She loved her dear, sweet Eddie so much and because of her memories, I was very mindful of what we changed.
Mom and I celebrated her life by finding new restaurants together; driving out to Williamsburg and Jamestown and visiting an art museum we often talked about, but never had time to see. It was a culmination of things we would have done over the years had I lived in Virginia and not Arizona.
During this time of discovery, Mom wondered what she was gonna do with her life now that her dear Eddie wasn't here. "What am I supposed to do with my life now, Mike? I cared for your Dad for so long, living each day only for him, that I stopped thinking about the future. My interests change so much and I don't have that much time to waste doing the wrong thing."
They were the kind of questions I had to ask myself a few years ago when I was gonna die in the wheelchair. I had two years to live, but I took a chance on surgery and won a new life. One in which I can walk again.
"Mom, life doesn't get much simpler than when you're facing death, no matter how much time you have left. I learned the hard way that every day is a gift and whatever you do, it's not the wrong thing or a waste. It's your life and you're here to enjoy every breath. Just focus on what your interests are right now. If they change, so be it. At least, you experienced it. And remember to love the ones around you. You'll live in their hearts long after you're gone. They'll always remember the special times with their grandmother and Mom. The neat thing about that is we get to decide what's special and a lot of times, it's just you being here."
I grinned at my Mom and we hugged. Whether she agreed with my life's creed wasn't important. She had listened to her older brothers and she would think on it.
On Easter morning, my Mom drove me to the airport for my flight out to Phoenix. She thanked me for my help and for listening. I could see it in her eyes that I wasn't the only man there. Her older brothers had come home to help her too. They'll always be in my soul as far as my Mom is concerned and I'm honored by her thought.
Our goodbyes were heartfelt, but not filled with sadness. Mom had some assignments from me and she'd promised to do them. Each one would give her more exposure to the world around her. It would be her way of safely entering the world again and she would do them at her own pace.
I knew that Junie and Billy were proud of their little sister. I was proud of my Mom too. She was gonna make it.
---
Black and Whites (Livin life in black and whites)
by Phil Vassar and Craig Wiseman
So many choices in my life these days
So much confusion, so many shades of gray
That sometimes I don't know
My left from my right
But I've got these old black and whites
Well, I'm every color that you can paint
A father, a lover, a mother, a sinner and a saint
From Sunday morning, to Saturday night
I've got these old black and whites
Under the spotlight or all alone at midnight
I know I'm right where I belong
It always unwinds me, it finds me then reminds me
That life is as simple as a song
Lovers, they come and surely they go
They fly you so high, say hello, say goodbye
And they leave you low
But that's all right here in these songs that I write
Right here on these old black and whites
Under the spotlight or all alone at midnight
I know I'm right where I belong
It always unwinds me, it finds me then reminds me
That life is as simple as a song
So roll over Beethoven
Cause ol' Phil could use a little room
I may be out of time and may be out of tune
But you know how it feels to pour out your life
Right here on these old black and whites
Livin life in black and white
---
posted by Mike Chandler | 8:59 PM
|
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