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Moon River---Mom's Song
Author: Yolanda Mortimer Music is well said to be the speech of angels.
~Thomas Carlyle
Mom and Dad lived on a small farm that they had owned since I was seven. It had started out as a weekend place for my dad to "get away from it all." My mom loved the peace and quiet of the land and loved to work in the garden among her flowers and vegetables.
In the evenings, my mom and I would sit for hours singing in the little kitchen. I sang the melody and Mom harmonized. Her favorite song was "Moon River" and we sang it over and over. Mom told me stories about how when I was a little girl, I could sing before I could talk. She loved to tell how my playpen sat in the kitchen next to the radio and there was one song I particularly loved called "Ivory Tower." Mom would laugh when she told me how I'd get excited whenever the song came on. I knew the melody, but not the words, yet I tried to sing along with it. As an adult, I didn't remember this song, but Mom took great pleasure in reliving that childhood memory over and over again.
As time passed, Mom and Dad renovated that little farmhouse and they went to live there permanently when Dad retired his job. By then I had my own children and went to visit every week or two. The kids loved the farm and the tractor rides with my dad. Me, well, I still hated the silence of the farm. While my mom loved to sit at her kitchen table and look out at her garden and flowers and retell all the old stories, I missed the hustle and bustle of my life at home. But I sat there listening quietly as she reminisced.
After mom's death, I sat in her chair at the familiar kitchen table, looking out at her garden that was now covered in snow, feeling a terrible ache inside. I missed her. I missed her gentle manner and I longed to hear just one more old story. Why hadn't I listened more carefully when she told them over and over? If only I could hear her voice one more time, tell her I loved her and thank her for all my childhood memories.
I sat back in the silence. The silence was deafening so I finally leaned over to turn on an old radio that sat in the corner of the counter. Music always comforted me. My heart skipped a beat. "Moon River" was playing on the radio. I sat there stunned, with a tear running down my cheek, as I listened to every last familiar note.
Rebecca Lin 2010 Fall In USA |
Glad to hear that.
京趣，你真有才华，每次读你的留言，都是如此的深刻，给我启迪，谢谢你。
只可惜我父母都不在人世了，不然的话，我会常回国看望他们的。如今自己做了母亲，深深地体会到父母对我的那份爱了。
想象的真好，好诗意。
五医生想家了，那就赶忙去给你的母亲打电话呀，你母亲一定会好高兴听到你的声音的。
如果时间能倒流，我一定多听我母亲的话，多陪伴她，少惹她烦恼。
让俺想回家了，陪老娘聊聊天。。。。