February 6, 2019
Songs and Movies…
It has almost been two months since my Daddy passed.
I can’t find it to cry, normally. If I think about crying, I remember how happy he is in heaven. Then crying feels selfish – because I know he was in pain every day here.
But sometimes, I can’t explain it. And it’s always a song or a movie. And even that doesn’t always make sense.
I was coming home from work one early afternoon and on comes “Small Town Southern Man.” No, that wasn’t my Daddy, but the core of the song “…He bowed his head to Jesus… always loved one woman, was proud of what he had… he said his greatest contribution was the ones he left behind…” Yes, that was my Daddy.
I was bawling when the next one happened to be “Love Without End, Amen” – which yes, didn’t need any alteration and went all the way to heaven. I’m glad my car has cruise control and I’ve been driving 207 for over 20 years.
A song. A movie. (okay, this one was crazy) Never saw it with my Daddy, but he had given it to us. Annapolis. A story of a determined young person getting to his goal – my Daddy liked stories with real character. At the end of the film, Louis comments, “I know why your Dad liked that one.” And that was it. Not that anyone else saw, but I ended up tearing up over the simple thought that I can’t ever discuss this film with Daddy. It had so many side stories and threads woven this way and that – prime film material for our long-drawn-out discussions.
Whenever something makes me want to cry, I remember the silliest of song lyrics/movie lines and it’s really odd that those four lines remind me of Daddy because he didn’t like that movie. (I’m not a fan or having that one on continual repeat, either.) “He lives in you.” And, yes, my mind sings it.
I’m thankful for memories. I’m thankful for times when I hear my Daddy in my siblings and children – just things he often said or quirky humorous lines. I almost cried when I first saw my little brother in his new glasses with the hat and stubbly beard – because if the beard were a bit longer, that is how I remember my Daddy (from when I was a toddler) and my little brother is a spitting image (face) of my Daddy.
I feel sad that Daddy won’t see Teddy or Thea (our Baby, named after his/her great-grandfather Pearson) but I know I’ll keep “Living the Legacy” (another song… yes) and just like the girls don’t “remember” their Great-Grandmother Jeanette yet they know her love and life through us, my children will know their Grandfather Pearson’s legacy because it’s in us – and my extension, also in them.
Thanks for reading!
Type at you next time…
~Nancy Tart