Same song for me, but by Burl Ives. When I was in my teens, I would sleep late .... very late .... on Saturday and Sunday. You know how teenagers are, can sleep over twelve hours without any difficulty. Well, my dad discovered, quite be accident, a way to make me get out of bed.
Daddy and I had built our own home stereo system, not just mixing and matching components, but we actually built the turn table and receiver from scratch. Of course, Dad did most of it, but he let me do some of the soldering of contacts, too. It was a lot of fun. Once it was ready, we all enjoyed the music.
One morning Dad put on a Burl Ives album, and one of the songs was "Mockingbird Hill." Well, I came out of the bed right away!! You see, there was something about the bass in that song that made the springs in my bed vibrate and "sing"!! No other song, just that one. I figured it was loud, but it wasn't. When I walked into the living room, ready to pick a fight with my folks about the volume level, it was normal. Daddy got such a kick out of it that he woke be about 10:00 every Sunday morning for several weeks!
Gosh, I miss those days. I'm so thankful to have the warm family memories I do. My life wasn't necessarily perfect, but it was really good. We didn't have a lot of money. But I never thought of us as "poor," now was there much concern about what we didn't have. We had enough. And since my parents did a good job of building the memories, not much else mattered, anyway.
Another gosh .... Gosh, I miss my Mom and Dad.
That was a great memory Lyn. It seems that for the most part, we remember the good one's.
ReplyDeleteI miss my mom too. That never goes away.
Love Di ♥
Di, the missing never goes away, for sure, but it becomes more gentle with time. I think it is just what you said, we remember the good memories with time. I've noticed that even with people associated with bad memories, time heals a lot of that, too.
ReplyDeleteThere was only one person in my who life that I haven't switched to the good memories, and that person was so mean and cruel that the good is just obliterated. Honestly, I can't recall a time that I deem "good" about him, even after he is gone over 50 years. He turned every good time into something ugly. I've forgiven him (and myself for hanging around with him), but I can't recall a time that I could call "good." Isn't that strange? It makes me wonder if he was one of those truly evil souls.
I love that story! I am catching up your posts and I had to stop and comment on this one. what a great memory!
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