clearly remember
Some memories are unique to us, to one person solely, individually, exclusively. Mine is the only collection of neurons, dendrites and axons left on Earth, solar system, galaxy, universe, multiverse, remembering that in her twenties when I first knew her, my mother had a clear, sweet singing voice. With me it goes back into the mid-to-late thirties and early forties, and I doubt that even my siblings know that about mama. Her oldest child, I remember her singing, and singing to me, what I recall as "good old Baptist hymns" that she grew up singing in Sunday school, and taught me. Including early when she bought our first piano, a used Wurlitzer upright that some keys were cracked and the finish was dark, black and crinkled with age.
I remember her singing in the car too. Unlike our second car - - the 1942 Chevrolet that my parents bought just before or after Pearl Harbor from the last shipment of Chevrolet cars arriving in Panama City as the federal government took over industry, shut down production and converted to defense, a car that had neither radio nor heater nor white sidewall tires, in winter only a blanket or two - - our first car, the 1935 Chevrolet, had not only a heater, yellow wire-spoke wheels and white sidewall tires, but a radio. And I clearly remember, it was long before buckled in child seats, standing on the floor in the back seat behind mama as she drove, softly singing along while the radio played music, songs that were popular. It was always just the two of us, never when my father was along and driving.
One song that I loved hearing her sing in the car was Irving Berlin's "What'll I do?", maybe with Frank Sinatra? IDK. Composed in 1924 for the Broadway musical "Music Box Revue", it evidently was popular for a long time, certainly well into my childhood. And seems to me that I heard it in the film production with Robert Redford in "The Great Gatsby". Which makes sense: it would have been a song that, along with the Green Light, defined Jay's life and his longing for Daisy, and his grief in losing her and his obsession with getting her back and returning to what was but could never be again. So many years, all in his mind.
Songs and memories come and go, and this song just happens to be going through my mind this morning. It keeps playing, and I hope it will stop in Time. Its persistent constancy reminds me of the "ICU psychosis" that so tormented me after my open heart surgery in Cleveland, exactly nine years ago this month. For a couple days straight when "Deutschland Über Alles" played over and over and over in my brain, both sleeping and awake. Seems like I need my laughing place this morning, but like memories that cling and stir melancholy, sadness, even grief, MLP also no longer exists, and even if it did, it's no longer mine. Here's that song, the lyrics:
Gone is the romance that was so divine
'Tis broken and cannot be mended
You must go your way and I must go mine
But now that our love dreams have ended
What'll I do when you are far away
And I am blue, what'll I do?
What'll I do when I am wondering who
Is kissing you, what'll I do?
What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to?
When I'm alone with only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do?
Do you remember a night filled with bliss?
The moonlight was softly descending
Your lips and my lips were tied with a kiss
A kiss with an unhappy ending...
What'll I do when you are far away
And I am blue, what'll I do?
What'll I do when I am wondering
Who is kissing you, what'll I do?
What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to?
When I'm alone with only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do?