As a young woman, Lesley Gore and Helen Reddy were my background music.
Womanhood was being re-defined.
Lesley reminded an insecure teen that ‘he didn’t own me.’
Later, Helen proclaimed it was time for women to roar. Chanting “I am strong. I am invincible,” she cheered me on.
A guy wrote a song for me once. It was about my smile. It should have been significant. As it turned out, it wasn’t. He didn’t give me much to smile about.
My three-year-old granddaughter sang “You Are My Sunshine” for me. I think that’s the last time a song made me cry. She’s ten now. The years disappear.
We’re sung into the world and we’re sung out.
Some days a melody, some days a march.
Sometimes in harmony, sometimes in discord.
With sharps and flats,
Piccolos and tubas,
Whistling or waltzing,
Strumming or humming,
The daily serenades go on,
And the years disappear.
You’ve given me things to consider. Thanks
Thanks for the comment, Scott.
As I wrote in a comment on your Day 3 post, (on your blog, I think) I hope I’ve given you some good things to consider.