Sunday, May 10, 2015

30 Days - Day 26

The crymobile.

I'm at the age where I don't give a tinker's whether you think I'm weird or pathetic or eccentric.

Crying was banned in the house I grew up in.

So I was left with a great groundswell of tears that couldn't be released until I ran away to Canada.

I've added to the great silo of them since, of course. And I'll try and not cry around you. I cry in bathrooms or in bed, but the greatest release comes when I drive alone like today. I was thinking of my mother, it being Mother's Day here, and I have a huge shuffle of music (oh, 6,000 pieces since you asked) on my Ipod in the car and who should start up but Roger Whittaker singing "Durham Town" which was the very last song my mother and I sang in harmony together a few months before she died.

My mother had a lovely voice. When she was in her forties, she re-ignited her passion for music and toured around with a small choir. I have to admit I wasn't 100% supportive of her endeavours as I had to babysit but I don't recall actually complaining to her as she was such a different person once she reconnected with her music. It was as if her younger self had come back. I'd play the piano for her when I got home from school and she'd practise her scales and teach me the joy of the madrigal style of singing - I later sang madrigals in Canada when I joined a choir.

All this came back to me today in the car - it never has before - and the tears that flowed were a mix of happy and so very sad. I truly felt her presence - I mean out of 6,000+ pieces of music, this was thrown up on a shuffle?

She had one piece of advice for me on my wedding day.

"Never forget your music, love."

And I haven't, though I shelved it for many, many years.

Best. Advice. Ever.


  1. I cry like you
    and care too much
    what others think.
    from the edge of the woods
    in a spot
    thousands of miles away.
    smile today
    an order...

  2. You are up early Ernestine! I am smiling today, weather is sunny, I have many delightful projects in, and there is music in my spirit!
    From the edge of the Atlantic to you, a big hug.

  3. Every story about a passed-on loved one's felt presence makes me happy (and less likely to cry). My mother was a singer too, and had a beautiful warm voice, and had me and my sisters singing from the time we were tiny tots, and now whenever I sing I think of her and how she loved my voice as I loved hers.

  4. I didn't grew up in a household that was big on expressing emotion, but I did grow up around lots of music -- and as an adult, music is what will make me cry, especially when I'm grieving a loss.

  5. Wish my ears hadn't gone wonky on me. Music was always a big part of my life,too.

  6. We saw Roger Whittaker in concert many years ago. I have an album of his and need to see if this song is on it. He has a distinctive voice. I let the music go when I'm feeling my lowest, which is the exact opposite of what would help.

  7. i loved Old durham Town, both the song and the place, I have many happy memories of wandering about the town and indeed the County.

  8. I would feel seriously depleted if I didn't have my daily ration of music. It really lifts my spirits if I'm feeling down.

    Great that you shared your mother's passion for music. And what a strange coincidence re "Durham Town".

  9. I wish that I could cry while driving. My glasses simply will not permit me the luxury. I do however listen to music and cry when the mood takes me. It is however very rare that I do. My mother sang professionally on All India Radio and Radio Mauritius. My father sang too and was briefly a stage actor in his youth. Music is very much part of my life as it is with my siblings and all our children.


Comments are welcome. Anonymous comments will be deleted unread.

Email me at wisewebwomanatgmaildotcom if you're having trouble.