She's the one who said, "You haven't posted. For two days."
At least I know who is paying attention. And isn't it great - that's it my mom?
Moms rock. Always.
Within a 24-hour span, I talked to all five of my kids on the phone. I'm away from even the youngest at the moment; but we can connect on the phone, and it means more than I can say, to know these young people, to have a glimpse of their lives as they broaden and swell with possibility. And to know that it matters to them, too, that we talk.
And then my mom calls and says You haven't posted on your blog. Are you okay?
My mom has always been in the periphery of our musical adventures. My brother, my dad, the kids - we all explore our emotional landscapes with music. Family gatherings almost always include bursts of music at some point.
Mom is usually there, but one step back. She might sing a little bit, but she's never carried on with us in a loud or extravagant fashion.
But she loves music; and of a certain type. Mention Doris Day or Barbra Streisand, maybe a little Louis Prima and Tony Bennet, and her eyes light up; somewhere in her generous heart flickers the passion of a young woman whose soul stirred with melody. She likes the great voices, mostly those of the past, because there aren't many of them singing their songs in our current musical landscape.
So here's a little Doris Day, for my mom; and for the season. I am surrounded by the red and gold of summer's farewell, and it will indeed be time for winter's song.