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Vacation season is just around the corner. It is that magical week you spend with your spouse and kids, listening to them whine and complain, vowing to never take another family vacation again. Then, February or March rolls around and thinking the kids are older and maybe last year was a less than ideal destination, you start to think about this year’s family vacation. And the kids start to badger you about where you’re going on vacation this year because they had so much fun doing this or that last year. You wonder if you were actually on the same trip because while they remember the fun they had feeding the goats at the zoo, all you remember is, “It’s so hot! I’m hungry! When can we eat?!”

I love to travel. I love to see new things, learn about the history of other locales, the architecture, and the landscape. I love the whole process of travel; well, packing and unpacking are not much fun but I enjoy the ride, especially if by airplane, as well as actually being there seeing the sights. Yes, I take my family on vacation in the hopes that they will have good memories to take with them as they grow, stories upon which to reminisce, and quality time spent with our family. I also hope that as a result of our trips, I will get revenge when they are suckered into taking their own children on family vacations one day. But the primary reason I take family vacations is I want to see these places and they won’t let me leave them home alone that long.

As I prepare for our family vacation to Rapid City, South Dakota, this summer, I wonder what “vacation from hell” moments we will be able to add to the multitude of other “vacation from hell” moments from years past. In June, 2002, my husband and I rented a minivan and drove with my mom, my 4-year old daughter, and 7-month old son to Denver, Colorado. I cannot say we were not fore-warned about the hellishness of this trip. The worst wild fires in decades were raging in the southern part of Colorado and the local news showed a black bear on the loose near down town Denver the night before we left. The fires actually ended up being somewhat of a positive for us though because even though the smoke obscured our tri-state view from Mt. Evans, it wasn’t very crowded. We arrived in Denver on Saturday evening and on Sunday; my daughter started screaming in pain every time she went to the bathroom. After her bath that evening, I noticed the redness and showed it to my mom who covered her eyes, slouched back in horror and said, “You have to take her to a doctor.”

So we called my brother who we then picked up so he could show us the way to a hospital. The first hospital we went to didn’t take our insurance so we ended up at Denver Children’s Hospital. By 11:00 p.m. we were driving the streets of Denver looking for an all-night drug store so we could fill the prescription for the antibiotic prescribed for my daughter’s urinary tract infection. Almost immediately as my daughter began to improve to the point where she didn’t cry when she had to use the restroom, my son started in with vomiting and diarrhea. On the bus to the Coors brewery tour, he threw up in my hands and my mom fished whatever tissues she could out of her purse to clean it up. Friday morning, after we’d loaded the van and were getting the kids strapped into their car seats, my son was afflicted with another bout of diarrhea. My husband held him under his armpits at arms’ length as the diarrhea flowed out of his diaper and splattered on the asphalt. I scolded my husband for moving to put my son down on the parking lot but my husband didn’t want to soil the rented van. So before we left for home, we took another detour to the Denver Children’s Hospital to confirm my son had nothing more serious than a gastro virus.

After that trip, I did avoid family vacations longer than a few days for six years. Last year, two years after my husband and I spent a week alone in Colorado, I thought about the things I’d wanted my kids to see and that since they were older, maybe giving a family trip to Colorado a second chance was in order. Our trip to the Colorado Springs area last summer was much better than the first trip—no hospital runs—but it was not without its hellish moments. On our first day, we went hiking at St. Mary’s Glacier near Idaho Springs. Then on the way to our cabin, the kids got root beer float soft drinks. I thought they sounded disgusting but they wanted them and we were on vacation so I agreed. While we were winding our way up the narrow road to the cabin we’d rented, my son got car sick. Luckily, we had a container to catch it and we arrived at the cabin just in time to allow my daughter to narrowly escape being sick herself. She was not so lucky a couple of days later driving back from the Royal Gorge. The highway we drove wound tightly through rangelands; we were tired and hungry. Based on our experience just a few days before, we thought to keep a puke bucket close by. I’m not sure who lost it first but somewhere between the Royal Gorge and Cripple Creek, one of them made use of the bucket. A moment later the other one took the bucket and added their own contribution. I have pictures I took of us pulled over on the side of a highway in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere rinsing out the bucket with bottled water. Thankfully, after that the kids got used to the elevation and my husband focused on driving a little slower so we had no more barfing incidents.

The last day of our trip, we took a hike on Cheyenne Mountain by Colorado Springs. The sun was out and it was warm but the kids could only focus on how hot they thought it was and how they needed to eat the picnic lunch in their back packs right now. More than once, one or both of them said, “I wish it would rain.” When we got to the highest point of our hike and the furthest from our car, like the heavens had heard their prayers, the clouds started to march over the mountain and obscure the sun. It was cooler and did feel nice but the clouds continued to thicken and darken until we thought we should hasten our pace back to the car and read those little markers that tell you what to do in case of lightening. We didn’t get very far before the clouds opened, the rain poured down and hail began to spit on us. We got back to the car drenched and hungry.

Last year in Colorado we joked with the kids that they are so unimpressed with everything and we speculated that if we ever went to Mt. Rushmore, they would probably look up at it then say, “Faces on a mountain, let’s go.” I have always wanted to go to the Black Hills in South Dakota so I reserved the trip in March to test this theory. The kids are a year older and we are staying at an indoor water park resort so I’m keeping my fingers crossed it will go better. I also bought them hiking gear and decided to bring lots of snacks I will allow them to eat whenever they want to hopefully make hiking more bearable for them. The kids are excited about the trip although I think their excitement revolves entirely around the water park rather than the national parks, culture and history. But that’s okay; it will afford me a little time to purchase some local cheese to go with all that whine that will inevitably flow.

Sometimes it seems like my life is a series of music videos. At times I’ve heard a song I hadn’t heard in a long time and it touched something within me, bringing forth emotions I thought were buried or at least not foremost in my mind at that moment. I was walking on the treadmill the fall after my one cousin committed suicide. I put an old CD in my portable player and I was fine until the line “shame you left my life so soon, you should’ve told me” was sung in the song “Far Behind” by Candlebox, then I started crying. I had a similar experience walking on the bike trail when the song, “Vision of Loneliness” by Bobbi Cryner started to play the spring after my step-dad died. I think the explanation for this phenomenon is fairly simple: these songs gave me something concrete to express feelings I either didn’t know I felt or could not articulate. Maybe they provide legitimacy or just the simple feeling that “someone gets me.”

My honors speech instructor in college had a similar theory; she opined that people who were constantly listening to music through headphones as they walked through campus were lost souls and they needed the music because they didn’t have the words or the capacity to express themselves; the music provided a kind of escape. I was one of those students whose ear phones stayed in until the moment the professor opened his or her mouth and were stuck right back in as soon as he or she said, “dismissed.”

Following are the rest of most of my favorite bits of songs residing in my iPod.

And drift away
I wanna drift away
far away from here
where nobody can find me now,
where nobody can touch me yeah,
when you’re down and lonely
when you wanna drift away.
Wait I wanna go
take me away from here now,
let your guitar soothe me, move me.
When you’re feeling down and lonely
but you know that you’re the only one.
Drift Away-Written by Mentor Williams, Performed by Judson Spence

And yesterday peddling down fourth avenue
between the stalls and the books shops,
sepia tones of a lost afternoon
cradled a curio store front.
And inside the air was thick with the past
as the dust settled onto his heart,
and here for a moment is every place in the world,
and ideas are like stars.
They fall from the sky,
they run ’round your head,
they litter your sleep as they beckon.
They teach you to fly without wires or thread;
they promise if only you’d let them.
For the language of longing never had words
so how did you speak from your heart?
And here’s a box that swears it has heard
that ideas are like stars.
Ideas Are Like Stars-Written and Performed by Mary Chapin Carpenter

You have taken the heart of me
and left just a part of me
and look, look, look what you’ve done.
Well you took all the best of me
so come get the rest of me
and look back, finish what you’ve begun.
Be done.
There is someone you ought to meet,
it’s me, Mr. incomplete,
look at what I’ve become.
For it’s due to the lack of you
that I’m now only half of two.
Look back, finish what you begun.
Be done.
Come and sit by my side
where there’s nothing to hide
and we’ll try to decide
what you needed.
But from where I stand today,
I can’t think of a way
nor the words that I might say
that could change your mind and make you stay,
oh no, not for all the times I pleaded.
Look, look, look what you’ve done.
You have taken the best of me
so come get the rest of me
and look back,
finish what you begun or be done.
Look What You’ve Done-Written by James Arthur Griffin and Robert Wilson Royer, Performed by Bread

I guess something must have happened
and we must’ve said goodbye
and my heart must have broken
though I can’t recall just why,
the song remembers when…

Well for all the miles between us
and for all the time that’s passed,
you would think I haven’t gotten very far.
And I hope my hasty heart
will forgive me just this once
if I stop to wonder how on Earth you are.
But that’s just a lot of water
underneath the bridge I burned
and there’s no use backtrackin’
around corners I have turned.
Still I guess some things we bury
are just bound to rise again
for even if the whole world has forgotten
the song remembers when.
The Song Remembers When-Written by Hugh Prestwood, Performed by Trisha Yearwood

I don’t take my whiskey to extremes,
don’t believe in chasin’ crazy dreams.
My feet are planted firmly on the ground
but darling when you come around
I get carried away by the look
by the light in your eyes
before I even realize the ride I’m on,
baby I’m long gone.
I get carried away nothing matters
but bein’ with you
like a feather flyin’ high in the sky on a windy day,
I get carried away.
It might seem like an ordinary night,
same old stars,
the same old moon up high,
but when I see you standin’ at your door,
nothin’s ordinary anymore.
Carried Away-Written by Steve Bogard & Jeff Stevens, Performed by George Strait

Hey didn’t you believe it
when I told you I was leavin’?
Well, wait a little while
and soon you’ll be believing.
I’m tellin’ you now like I told you before
that love has got to something more than a past time.
This is the last time.
This is the last time that I will say goodbye.
You say it doesn’t mean a thing,
let’s see what the future brings.
In the past I’ve changed my mind
but this has got to be the last time.
Well, didn’t you believe it
when I said you don’t know how to love me?
You never understood that you weren’t so high above me.
I didn’t realize ‘til a moment ago
that time doesn’t really go this slow when it’s a past time.
This is the last time.
This is the last time that I will say goodbye.
The Last Time-Written by James Arthur Griffin and Robert Wilson Royer, Performed by Bread

World was on fire and no one could save me but you.
Strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you
and I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.
No I don’t want to fall in love,
no I don’t want fall in love with you.
What a wicked game you play to make me feel this way,
what a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you,
what a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way,
what a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you
and I don’t want to fall in love.
Wicked Game-Written & Performed by Chris Isaak

In my own life, the thoughts I drift away,
does summer come for everyone,
can humans so what prophets say?
If I die before I learn to speak,
can money pay for all the days
I’ve lived awake but half asleep…

Life is time they teach you growing up,
seconds ticking kill the soul
a million years before the fall,
you ride the waves and don’t ask where they go,
you swim like lions through the crest
and bathe yourself in zebra flesh.
Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth—Written by Chris O’Conner, performed by Primitive Radio Gods

We can never know about the days to come
but we think about them anyway.
And I wonder if I’m really with you now
or just chasin’ after some finer day.
Anticipation-Written and Performed by Carly Simon

I felt it when the sun came up this morning,
I knew I could not wait another day.
Darling there is something I must tell you,
a distance voice is calling me away.
Until we find a bridge across forever,
until this grand illusion brings us home,
you and I will always be together.
From this day on you’ll never walk alone.
You’re a part of me, I’m a part of you,
wherever we may travel, whatever we go through.
Whatever time may take away
it cannot change the way we feel today
so hold me close and say you feel it to.
You’re part of me, I am part of you…

We can never know about tomorrow
but still we have to choose which way to go.
You and I are standing at the crossroads.
Part of Me, Part of You- Written by G. Frey and J. Tempchin, Performed by Glenn Frey

I’m headed for somewhere I’ve been in my dreams.
Oh I wanna go where a soul feels alive
and the untasted honey waits in the hive,
yeah I wanna be where a free spirit thrives
and the untasted honey waits in the hive…

call it heaven on earth, call it fools’ paradise,
I’m gonna to find it if it takes all of my life.
Untasted Honey-Written by Barry Alfonso & Craig Bickhardt, Performed by Kathy Mattea

Now maybe I did not mean to treat you bad
but I did it anyway.
Then maybe some would say your life was sad
but you lived it anyway…

then someday we can take our time
to brush the leaves aside so you can reach us
but you left me far behind…

some would say you’re left with what you had
but you couldn’t share the pain, no, no, no,
couldn’t share the pain they watch you suffer,
hmm-mm, now maybe I could have made my own mistakes
but I live with what I’ve known
then maybe we might share in something great
won’t you look at where we’ve grown
won’t you look at where we’ve gone.
Then someday comes tomorrow holds
a sense of what I fear for you in my mind
as you trip the final line.
And that cold day when you lost control,
shame you left my life so soon
you should have told me
but you left me far behind…

some would say you’re left with what you had
but you couldn’t share the pain.
Now times have changed,
your friends have gone,
they watch you crumble to the ground,
they watch you suffer,
yeah they hold you down, hold you down…

didn’t mean to treat you bad…

but you left me far behind.
Far Behind-Written and Performed by Candlebox

I don’t remember a voice on a dark lonesome road
when I started the journey so long ago.
I was only just trying to outrun the noise,
there was never a question of having a choice.
Jesus or genie, maybe they’ve seen me
but who would believe me I can’t really say.
Whatever the calling, stumbling and falling,
I’ll follow it knowing there’s no other way.
The Calling-Written and Performed by Mary Chapin Carpenter

I wouldn’t listen and I couldn’t see
and all I have left now are words you said to me.
Sing your song sweet music man,
‘cuz I won’t be there to hold your hand like I used to,
I’m through with you,
you’re a hell of a singer and a powerful man
but you surround yourself with people who demand so little of you…

sing your song sweet music man.
You travel the world with a six piece band
that does for what you ask them to
and you try to stay young but the songs you sung
to so many people who’ve all begun
to come back on you.
So sing your song sad music man.
You’re making your livin’ doin’ one night stands,
they’re through with you,
they don’t need you,
you’re still a hell of a singer but a broken man
but you’ll keep on looking for one last fan to sing to…

I believe in you.
Sweet Music Man-Written and Performed by Kenny Rogers

I’m not brave enough to sing except for alone in the shower. I do not know how to read music further than knowing the words do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do which I picked up from that song, “doe-a-deer…” The closest I’ve come to being able to play a musical instrument was “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “Hot Cross Buns” on the recorder I got in elementary school for three dollars. Despite all of this, I love music. I love music in most every genre. I max out the volume on my iPod dock boom box when I shower. I drown out all the noises of nature and humanity when I walk. The songs vary from alternative rock to twangy country to teen eighties pop, from clear digital recordings to scratchy LPs that were first recorded to cassettes then transferred to CDs with a CD recorder and finally imported into my iPod.

As a writer, it is no surprise that I’m partial to non-instrumentals and the value I place on a song is derived from its words. My favorite songs are basically good poetry set to music. Those I end up skipping the least are those that have some meaning to me, that speak to me and strike a chord within me even if I cannot articulate why. Certain songs conjure up memories and feelings that are no longer a part of my life but which have not been forgotten. Certain songs I associate with certain periods in my life or even specific days, some because of what the song actually said and some because of when they were played. I remember “We Had It All” was played at my 29 year old uncle’s funeral when I was 7 years old. The first 45-record I ever purchased was “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler. I was playing an “Open Arms” remake by the Birch Sisters on my stereo turntable when we got the call that my two year old cousin, Katie, had been hit by a car and died. I found the 45 version of “Third Rate Romance” by the Amazing Rhythm Aces in a basement record shop in downtown Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I sang “Friends in Low Places” by Garth Brooks with my senior-year classmates during lunch then in front of the rest of the school. (Oddly, though, I cannot recall at the moment our graduation song.) “Like a River to the Sea” by Steve Wariner was played during my wedding ceremony and “I Live My Life for You” by Firehouse was the song my husband picked as our first dance at our wedding reception. When my daughter was a baby, we’d dance cheek to cheek to “Carried Away” by George Strait.

I thought it might be fun to click through my iPod and jot down those lines from my favorite songs that spoke to me. I’ve included some of them here, making my best effort to accurately transcribe them and identify the authors and performers. They appear in no particular order. Maybe some of them will speak to you as well…

These hands on the clock should know
that time just can’t pass this slow when I am away.
But I’ve got my job to do then I’ll hurry home to you.
I’m always waiting for that day.
Like a River to the Sea-Written and Performed by Steve Wariner

All night hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep
because tomorrow might be good for something. Hold on.
Feeling like I’m headed for a breakdown and I don’t why.
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
and I know right now you can’t tell
but stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see a different side of me.
Unwell-Written by Rob Thomas, Performed by Matchbox 20

Years gone by and still words don’t come easily…

But you can say baby, baby can I hold you tonight?
Baby, if I told you the right words at the right time, you’d be mine.
Baby Can I Hold You-Written and Performed by Tracy Chapman

We could never see tomorrow,
no one said a word about the sorrow.
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
And how can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart-Written by Barry and Robin Gibb, Performed by Bee Gees

Somewhere there should be for all the world to see
a statue of a fool made of stone.
The image of a man who let love slip through his hands
and then let him stand there all alone.
And there on his face a gold tear should be placed
to honor the million tears he’s cried.
And the hurt in his eyes would show
so everyone would know that concealed
is a broken heart inside.
So build me a statue and lord build it high
so that all can see
then inscribe ‘the world’s famous fool’
and name it after me.
Statue of a Fool-Written by Jan Crutchfield, Performed by Ricky Van Shelton

Go ahead and take your best shot.
Let ‘er rip, give it all you’ve got.
I’m laid out on the floor but I’ve been here before.
Yeah I may stumble, I might fall,
I’m only human but aren’t we all?
I might lose my way but hear me when I say
I will stand back up.
You’ll know just the moment when I’ve had enough.
Sometimes I’m afraid and I don’t feel that tough
but I’ll stand back up.
Stand Back Up-Written and Performed by Sugarland

I can’t count the times that because of me your heart’s been broken.
And I have seen you hurt because of angry words I’ve spoken.
But somehow you always knew when I hurt you I never meant to.
We keep rising it above it all like the sun on the wings of morning.
And the hurt can’t make us fall if we keep rising above it all.
Rising Above it All-Written and Performed by Lynn Anderson

Some come for the music and some for romance,
you gotta be with the boy that brought you to the dance
then across the room there comes a casual glance
and you’d be makin’ some time given half the chance…

Why do we want what we know we can’t have?
Why don’t we want what’s in the palm of our hands?
Why do We Want What We Can’t Have-Written by Dave Woodward & Don King, Performed by Reba McEntire

If you ask me how I’m doin’ I’d say just fine
but the truth is baby if you could read mind
not a day goes by that I don’t think of you,
after all this time, you’re still with me it’s true.
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside…

Minutes turn to hours and the hours to days,
seems it been forever that I’ve felt this way…

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.
Not a Day Goes By-Written by Steve Diamond & Maribeth Derry, Performed by Lonestar

I was dreamin’ while I drove the long straight road at night,
could taste your sweet kisses, your arms open wide,
this fever for you is just burnin’ me up inside.
I drove all night to get you.
Is that all right? I drove all night,
crept in your room,
woke you from your sleep to make love to you.
Is that all right? I drove all night.
What in this world keeps us from tearing apart…

No one can hold me the way you do,
nothing erases this feeling between me and you.
I Drove All Night-Written by Billy Steinberg & Tom Kelly, Performed by Cindi Lauper

I would do anything for love but I won’t do that…

Will you raise me up, would you help me down,
will you get me right out of this god forsaken town,
will you make it a little less cold?
I can do that.
Will you cater to every fantasy I got,
will you hose me down with holy water if I get too hot,
will you take me to places I’ve never known?
I can do that.
I know the territory, I’ve been around,
it’ll all turn to dust and we’ll all fall down,
sooner or later you’ll be screwin’ around.
I won’t do that.
I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)-Written by Jim Steinman, Performed by Meat Loaf

Song came and went like the times that we spent
hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent.
Laughed and she’d smile, it would last for awhile,
you don’t what you got ’til you lose it all again.
Listen to the mandolin rain…

listen to my heart break every time she runs away…

listen to the tears fall down my face as she turns to go.
Mandolin Rain-Written by Bruce and John Hornsby, Performed by Bruce Hornsby & The Range

In a way I’m glad it’s over
even though it’s gonna hurt me once you’re gone.
I can learn to live without you.
Give me time and I can make it on my own.
Lovin’ you to me came easy,
now losing you will change my life no doubt.
In a way I’m glad it’s over,
in another way it turns me inside out.
In a way I guess it’s better
even though there’s nothing good about goodbye…

On the one hand I know I’ll be better off once you’re gone
but I find a lot of heartaches on the other…
It Turns Me Inside Out-Written by Jan Crutchfield, Performed by Lee Greenwood

Yes I’ll fall before I fly
but no one can say I never tried.
We just get one ride around the sun
in the stream of time.
It goes so fast that one day we’ll look back
and we ask, was that my life?
Was That My Life-Written by Luke Laird, Performed by JoDee Messina

Don’t shed a tear for me, no, its not your style.
If you’re not here by me then it’s not worthwhile.
My world is our world
and this world is your world and your world is my world
and my world is our world, it’s mine.
I’ve been crying, I’m lonely,
what do I do to have you to stay?
I plead with you to cry out,
I’ve written to you nearly every day…
My World-Written by Barry & Robin Gibb; Performed by Bee Gees

They say no one should call on you
unless she’s your permission to
but me I just came anyway,
I couldn’t care less what you say.
‘Cuz I know you from long before
you hid behind a stained glass door
and walked around
and looked your old friends up and down.
But anyway I’d thought I’d come give you a look
at where you’re from
and let you know I still recall
what a child you are underneath it all.
You remember me, the funny way I cry,
the funny way I sit there when someone says goodbye,
the funny way I wind up lost when someone sets me free,
why sure, you remember me…
You Remember Me-Written by Jesse Winchester, Performed by Reba McEntire

You sheltered me from harm, kept me warm…

You gave my life to me, set me free…

The finest years I ever knew
were all the years I spent with you.
And I would give anything I own,
give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
just to have you back again.
You taught me how to laugh,
what it’s of, what it’s of.
You never said too much…

I knew from watching you,
nobody else could ever know
the part of me that can’t let go. ..

Is there someone you know,
you’re loving them so
but taking them all for granted?
You may lose them one day,
someone takes them away
and they don’t hear the words you long to say.
Everything I Own-Written by David Gates, Performed by Bread

It seems today was longer
than any day that I have ever known.
I feel tonight is colder
than any night I’ve ever spent alone.
Is it my imagination
or can I feel the darkness touch my skin?
I should know by now
it’s only you that’s touching me again…

but it really wasn’t different
the way today just stayed and lingered on
and tonight is not the first night
that I froze to death from being all alone.
And a thousand times I’ve told myself
the darkness has no fingers or no hands…
Touching Me Again-Written by Joe Allen, Performed by Crystal Gayle

Love will abide,
take things in stride,
sounds like good advice
but there’s no one at my side.
And time washes clean
love’s wounds unseen.
That’s what someone told me
but I don’t know what it means
‘cuz I’ve done everything I know
to try and make you mine
and I think I’m gonna love you
for a long, long time…

Wait for the day you’ll go away
knowing that you warned me
of the price I’d have to pay….

‘Cuz I’ve done everything I know
to try and change your mind
and I think I’m gonna miss you
for a long, long time…
Long, Long Time-Written by Gary White, Performed by Linda Rondstadt

For taking in the rain when I’m feelin’ so dry,
for givin’ me the answers when I’m asking you why
and my oh my for that I thank you.
For takin’ in the sun when I’m feelin’ so cold,
for givin’ me a child when my body is old
and don’t you know for that I need you.
For comin’ to my room when you I’m alone,
for findin’ me a highway,
for drivin’ me home
and you gotta know for that I serve you.
For pullin’ me away when I’m startin’ to fall,
for wrappin’ me up when I’m startin’ to stall
and know…for that I want you.
For takin’ and for givin’ and for playin’ the game,
for prayin’ for my future and the days that remain,
woah Lord, for that I hold you.
Aw but most of all, for cryin’ out loud, for that I love you.
For Crying Out Loud-Written by Jim Steinman, Performed by Meat Loaf

I’m writing it down in case I forget,
one day it’ll be my story for you.
On every page you will know how much I love you.
In every line you will see how much I care.
With every word we will grow a little closer
even though we both know I can’t be there.
That’s why I’m writing it down…

For you and for me and the whole wide world to read…

all my life I’ve been hoping and praying
for my time to finally arrive,
to put down this pen,
to say it’s the end
and wake up back home with you by my side
Writing it Down-Written by Michael Bradford, Performed by Uncle Kracker

Here I sit, all alone thinkin’ ’bout what I should’ve known.
You made me think that I could need you.
You weaved your magic spell and I believed you.
Lookin’ back on you and me,
promises that will never be.
I truly thought that we were lovers
but now I find out I’m just like all the others.
Heartbreaker, wish I’d seen that love was blind,
sweet little love maker, takin’ my heart and leave me behind.
Heartbreaker, couldn’t you be just a little bit more kind to me?
Played with fire, felt its burn.
I would have thought that I would have learned…
Heartbreaker-Written by Carole Bayer Sager & David Wolfert, Performed by DollyParton

It’s like when you’re making conversation
And you’re trying not to scream.
And you’re trying not to tell ‘em
That you don’t care what they mean.
And you’re really feeling fragile
And you really can’t get home.
And you really feel abandoned
But you want to be alone.
Old friends, they shine like diamonds.
Old friends, you can always call.
Old friends, Lord, you can’t buy ‘em.
It’s old friends after all…

When the house is empty
And the light begins to fade.
And there’s nothing to protect you
Except the window shade.
And it’s hard to put your finger
On the thing that scares you most.
And you can’t tell the difference
Between and angel and a ghost…
Old Friends, Written by Guy Clark & Richard Dobson, Performed by Lacy J. Dalton

There were so many songs I felt I just had to include so in order not to bore you to the point that you quit reading, I thought I’d split this post into two installments. So come back in about a week for further musing and more thought-provoking, if not inspirational, song lyric snippets.

Have you ever noticed that time seems to pass exponentially faster? A unit of time that once felt like an eternity now disappears in the blink of an eye. I remember as a six-year old on the first day of first grade Christmas felt like it was years and years away and I couldn’t imagine twelve more years of school. Today, those twelve years of school have been completed for over fifteen years and I start wondering how I’ll finish all of my Christmas projects in time in August.

I believe there is a scientific explanation for this time accelerant phenomenon…or maybe it is more of a mathematical explanation. This is my theory. As we age, we collect memories, experiences and perceptions of the passing seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years and, eventually, decades and scores, then if we’re lucky, a century. As each period of time passes, it becomes less and less significant on its own in terms of quantity as compared to our life as a whole. An instructive way to think of it would be a platform supported by poles. If the platform is supported by just one pole, that pole is fundamentally important because without it, the platform would fall. But if it is supported by one hundred poles, knocking two or three out wouldn’t make any difference; therefore, even though all the poles are working together to support the platform, each one by itself is less significant than it would be with even ninety-nine poles. There may be certain special poles that are dearer to the platform in terms of quality but strictly numerically speaking, they are equal.

Similarly, as we age, each increment of time becomes a progressively smaller percentage of our lives. Let’s take one year for example. For a one-year old child, one year is their entire, or 100%, of their life; one year is 50% of a two-year old’s life; 33 1/3% of a three year old’s life; 20% of a five-year old’s life and so on until at twenty-years old, one year is just 5% of your life and by 50 years old, it is a mere 2% of your life. A person’s sense of time develops over time with the frame of reference being only the time that has passed since the moment they were plucked from their mother’s womb. Because each passing unit of time becomes less and less significant as a percentage of the whole, they seem to pass more quickly as they are compiled.

If you’re five years old and your parents tell you that your birthday is in one year, the only sense of how quickly that time will pass is based on the fact that one year is one-fifth of your entire life to date and with one of five poles holding your platform missing, you can feel the weight and continuing to hold the platform or wait feels much harder. As you move through that year from five years old to six years old, sure each day is becoming less and less a percentage of your entire life but not at a rate swift enough to notice it. It is not until you are twenty or so that the acceleration is readily apparent. Furthermore, at twenty you have the memory of how slow time seemed to past when you were five and the comparison solidifies the sense of time passing faster in your mind. By the time you’re thirty-something like me you are shocked to learn events you thought happened a few months ago actually happened a few years ago and you feel like you’re treading frantically just to keep up with time.

I don’t know about you but my brain hurts from thinking so hard. I’m sure there are ways to articulate it more elegantly and scientifically but that’s my theory about time. You can never get the time back so do what you can with each day before the final figures are in.

I am a lot of things. I am a wife, a paralegal, a daughter, a sister, a writer, an aunt, a cook, an accountant, and a planner along with a myriad of additional titles I would bestow upon myself and others might bestow upon me, the first of which that comes to mind is bitch. However, the one thing I am foremost and the title I at least think of first when asked “who are you?” is mother. I am not a perfect mother though I like to think I am at least a good mother. My main goal as a mother is to get my kids raised and out of the house without them getting into drugs, abusing alcohol, getting or getting someone pregnant, getting into jail or doomed to a life of straight-jackets or weekly therapy sessions. Of course, I’d love for them to become happy, successful, well adjusted adults who live comfortably financially and provide me with grandchildren I can use to torture them but that is the ideal. In the world today, I’m just shooting for the minimum and striving to get them and me out of childhood alive with at least a functional amount of sanity.

As most people do, I struggled with the question of, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” For a long time, this question of what I want to be caused me anxiety and frustration. I think the reason was because in order to figure out what I wanted to be I needed to first know who I already was. Somehow the moment my daughter was born, it no longer mattered who I was or what I would become. Once I got over the initial shock and utter relief this thing I didn’t care if was a dog let alone a girl was out of me, I was a mother to a beautiful baby girl and nothing else mattered that much anymore. I knew throughout the rest of my life I could become and cease to be many things but my life would have purpose and meaning because I was a mother. I will always be a mother even when I no longer have anyone to mother. What I always wanted most deep down above all other things was to be a mother. It is like the rest of it is just icing on the cake. This is not to say that the other titles I’ve held or hope to hold are not important. I still have so much to do before I can say my life was as purposeful and complete as I want but with the major hurdle out of the way, the rest is not so critical. The analogy of a scale comes to mind. One the one side is “mother” and balancing the scales requires a whole lot of other roles placed into the opposite plate. It is like a brick vs. feathers where mother is the brick.

Thinking about being a mother naturally leads to ponder having a mother. Being a daughter and having a daughter is a unique situation. Watching my daughter grow up allows me to understand my mother more and answers so many questions. For example, I now fully understand why she went through cases of first boxed wine then Milwaukee’s Best Light. As a daughter, I don’t think you are capable of fully realizing or appreciating what you get from your mother until you have a child of your own, especially a daughter. Probably the best revenge a mother can have against her daughter is a granddaughter. You get to sit back and just laugh it up when your granddaughter tries to sneak wearing make-up to school, incessantly rolls her eyes at your daughter and slams her bedroom door so hard paint flakes off the ceiling. I hope that my daughter does not deprive me of this greatest of the simple pleasures in life.

When the mother in me was gestating, I did not fully understand but I suspected there was a geometrical connection between mothers and daughters across the generations. As a gift for my mother at the baby shower for my daughter, I wrote and framed the following poem. I am now re-gifting it to anyone who has ever been or has ever had a mother. I hope you enjoy it. HAPPY MOTHERS’ DAY!!!

THE CIRCLE

The Line:
Grandma to you.
You to me.
Me to my child.

Love and respect
For the woman
Known best
Through all of
The differences
And alikes
As people
And as parents.

Laughter, love and lessons:
Be your own person.
Stand up for what
You believe.

Hurts to each other
That cannot be avoided
But are eventually healed.

A woman, after time,
Whose strengths
Are admired
And whose weaknesses
Are understood.

The Chain:
Your grandma to you.
Your mother to me.
You to my child.

Spoils that shouldn’t
Be spoiled.
Harshness that shouldn’t
Be babied.
An idealized love between
That is never tainted
By imperfection.

Eyes to smile
And voices to laugh.
Arms to hold the crying child
That has just been denied
One more cookie
Or one more toy.

A woman to fight
Childhood battles
Whether right or wrong
With the girl she raised from birth.

Always remembered and
Cherished as the woman
Who made life possible.

The Circle:
Grandma to my child.
You to my grandchild.

Remembered for,
Known for
And watching with the wisdom
Of having experienced
Each curve
In this circle of life.