If I could go back and relive days of long ago, I'd pay closer attention the second time around, knowing how precious memories would become.Only in retrospect do I see the true value of a day in 1969 when I - mother of five - stumbled through clutter and chaos, mixing cornbread and folding laundry while the walls rang with music.
Tony was 14 that year. Patti 12, Carmen 7, Karen 5 and Honey Gail 3. We had the house to ourselves. My husband was overseas.
Carrying an armload of freshly folded clothes down the hall, I smiled to see Tony's door firmly closed against a houseful of sisters. The sound of his voice blending with newly learned guitar chords drifted from the room. I paused to listen ...
Yesterday ... all my troubles seemed so far away ... Now it looks as though they're here to stay ... Oh, I believe in yesterday
Look out, Paul McCartney! Serious competition's heading your way!
As I retraced my steps through the living room, Patti, at the piano, was singing soprano. Karen, by her side, was providing the alto.
Jean, Jean, Roses are red
and all of the leaves have gone green.
and the clouds are so low
you can touch them, and so
come into my arms bonnie Jean.
What wonderful harmony! I'd seen acts on Arthur Godfrey's talent show that weren't half so good.
All the hills are ablaze with the moon's yellow haze
Come into my arms, bonnie Jean.
Such a beautiful duet!
Meanwhile, still wearing black tights and leotard from dance class, Carmen was practicing for the Nutcracker Ballet. She hadn't yet been asked to dance the roll of Sugar Plum Fairy, you understand, but our Carmen was never one to think small. An invitation would come in the mail any day now. Swing, leap, pirouette. Even with Molly barking and nipping at her ankles the performance was flawless. Dancing elegantly down the hall, through the living room and on into the kitchen, she paused to instill a bit of culture into a mother who could fry the best okra in town, but didn't know a barre from a hitching post.
"Watch me, Mama," Proper foot placement with corresponding arm position was demonstrated. "A plie, Mama, is the graceful bending of the knees." She had her crisp schoolteacher voice going. " It can be either demi or grand." Arms curved above her head as she executed the correct movements.
Oh! how lovely she was ....
Honey Gail, oblivious to all sibling activity, was standing upon the kitchen table, singing. Maybe to me. Maybe to some invisible audience. Maybe just to herself. My three-year-old was singing.
Up up in the sky, the little birds fly
Down down in their nest the little birds rest
With a wing on the left and a wing on the right
Let the wee birdies sleep all the long night.
Karen abandoned the piano and hurried to climb upon the table-turned-stage with Honey. The two girls switched smoothly from birds to frogs and belted out the grand finale:
Five little speckled frogs
sitting on a hollow log
eating some most delicious bugs
Yum. Yum.
(Giggle Giggle push shove)
One fell into the pool
where it was nice and cool
now there are four little speckled frogs
where it was nice and cool
now there are four little speckled frogs
Glub. Glub.
(Giggle Giggle fall bump)
If I could turn back forty years and hold just that one day in the palm of my hand again, what would I do differently? Well, for starters, I'd forget laundry. I'd open my son's door and enter the room without saying one critical word about the trash covering his typical teen-age floor. I'd interrupt that guitar player long enough to gather him - protesting all the way - into my arms and I'd kiss his face for the first time since he was seven-years-old and declared kissing off-limits. He'd be furiously rubbing his hand against his cheek as I exited the room. I'd be smiling.
If I could turn back forty years and hold just that one day in the palm of my hand again, what would I do differently? Well, for starters, I'd forget laundry. I'd open my son's door and enter the room without saying one critical word about the trash covering his typical teen-age floor. I'd interrupt that guitar player long enough to gather him - protesting all the way - into my arms and I'd kiss his face for the first time since he was seven-years-old and declared kissing off-limits. He'd be furiously rubbing his hand against his cheek as I exited the room. I'd be smiling.
In the living room, I'd wrap my arms around Patti, pressing my face against her silky black hair, inhaling the clean fragrance of Prell shampoo and causing Patti to miss several notes just as she almost had her song ready to be taped. She wouldn't mind the interruption though. Her hands would leave the keyboard willingly, as she leaned back into my hug.
I'd allow Molly to sleep in Carmen's bed forever. I'd let Karen tell me all about the Wizard of Oz movie with no interruptions on my part. I'd do a page in Honey's coloring book according to her exact specifications ... Blue sun, shining down on purple people with orange teeth and green hair. I'd sit in the backyard and watch Patti's cheerleading practice. I'd bake a triple batch of brownies.
If only it were possible to have a second time through, I'd forget mopping the kitchen floor and pay closer attention to things that really mattered ...
Someday.
1 comment:
Good Morning Mrs. Melinda,
Truer words never spoken than yours in this post.
Now that my babies are grown and gone, I too can now see that I probably have missed out on many a wonderful thing, simply, because my focus was on house wife and motherly duties.
Looking back I wish I too had taken more time to just sit in the floor and play, or sing a silly song with them, or just to indulge myself with what ever they were doing.
Hind sight IS 20 20!
Often the best lessons learned arent even realized until many years later. Then we must share what we have learned with our children so they do not make the same mistakes.
Thank you for sharing this today.
Have A Peachy Keen Day!
Love & Prayers,
Ronda
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