On The Anniversary Of My Mom's Death....

My Mom died a few years back on April 28th. I honestly couldn't tell you the year right now, though it hasn't been long. Two, maybe three years? It's hard to tell. I still feel her present, so it doesn't feel very different for me unless I want to pick up the phone and give her a call (this hasn't happened to me in while, however).

For those of you who knew my Mom, you know I'm not being prone to hyperbole when I say she was probably the smartest person I have ever known, and I surround myself with pretty smart people. She had a mischievous gleam in her eyes, even in her old age. Her weapons and her anodynes were her words and her intellect. She was deeply religious, and deeply caring. I think she passed some of these traits on to me, and more of them onto my siblings.

For those of you who didn't know her, I hope now you do a little.

I usually tell a story about her at this time of year. Here's one: Imagine how cool this Mom had to be, when her 17-year old son, who had applied to West Point (and met entrance requirements), University of Illinois' Aeronautical Engineering Program (and met requirements) Millikin University (and been offered a full scholarship for vocal), and SIU (offered a full ride scholarship and been accepted into their Engineering Program) told her that he doesn't really know if he is cut out for college.

She asks him, "Well, what do you really want to do? What do you love?"

"Well, Mom," he says, "I love music, and I want to play music in a band."

There was no screaming match, no "You're going to college no matter what, young man!" Instead, she says, "If that's what you really want to do, then you should do it. But," she adds, "you need to know what it is like to be a working musician." Then she spends the next several hours talking about options and choices, and ends by saying, "Whatever you decide, I will support you."

Yes, I'm talking about my Mom and me, and yes, you don't have to imagine, she was cool. I decided that I should go to college, but music never left my life.

Although I don't think Mom liked the genre of music I played, I think she appreciated the musicianship that was displayed. She supported my artistic endeavors, especially when the message of my music was different philosophically than what she believed. I did write one song before she died that I know she liked. It's called Remember, a song I wrote as lullaby for my yet unborn son, Carl. When Mom heard it, she smiled and said that I was finally getting it.

I present it to you at this link: Remember

Did you listen? Are you all sad now? Don't you think I sounded a little like Kermit the Frog? I'll leave you with a song I wrote for Mom after she died, which summed up my feelings at that time.

It's called One More Time.

That's the best I can do for her (for now).