Somehow, I didn’t even give it a thought. Not until I heard the song, anyway. Then the tears filled my eyes and I struggled to keep them back. I couldn’t stop the lump that formed in my throat, though. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t even whisper. I had to stop and listen and remember.
Music, even a song you’ve never heard, can set both the tears and the memories flooding in.
It’s the anniversary of the drastic surgery I had in 1982 that gave me back my health. I had forgotten all about it. Normally when November rolls around, I find myself thinking back to that time, and how lucky I was to have the doctors I had, the family I had and the friends I had.
But what makes me think back most fondly on having my guts torn apart and totally reorganized was that it reintroduced me to my mom. I went from having no respect for her whatsoever, to realizing that she was one strong, smart, funny woman. That was my silver lining. I’ve writen about that time a lot, including here. And here. And here.
When I heard this beautiful son on a satellite radio show interviewing and playing Arlo Guthrie’s songs, Mom came flooding back. And I’m so glad. It’s always a gift to spend time with Mom who passed away in 1997.
Happy Anniversary Mom.
Thanks for everything. I love you. Especially when I made you laugh and you spit beer on the wall. Or when you did it back to me.