gone gone gone she's been gone so long she's been gone gone gone so long

On Wednesday evening, I was straightening up the Ocean Room, listening to Chilliwack. The bfe was doing school work and had assured me that the music would not disturb him.
So, there I was, listening to the cassette, and, amazingly, singing along with the songs.
I had not listened to this music in many, many years - and yet, the lyrics came as easily to me as breathing.
Especially for this 1981 hit, "My Girl (Gone, Gone, Gone)".
At the time I first heard it, it was just a catchy dance song.
No longer.
It brings Mama to mind, of course.

"Gone, gone, gone, she's been gone so long, she's been gone, gone, gone so long.
Wonder if I'm ever gonna see my girl...
My girl, she was the world to me,
she's gone away across the sea,
my girl is just a memory,
she's been so long away."

I guess that's hardly surprising, as I still think of her as "My Girl", bringing sunshine on a cloudy day, dropping pennies to guide my path.
"I've even got the month of May."
(smile)

I think listening to that tape on Wednesday jostled some nerve endings.
Mama has been on my mind even more than usual ever since.
I take that back.
Maybe, just maybe, I was prompted to randomly open that drawer of tapes on Wednesday.
Maybe, just maybe, it was not coincidence that had me grab that particular cassette.
After all, it was early on Wednesday afternoon that I had been phoned about my invention. My first thought? "I should call Mama about this!"
Instead, about two hours later, I was sending out text messages to my investors.
Then, I had come home and selected the cassette with Chilliwack on one side and Icehouse on the other.
Chilliwack's songs were those chosen for me by the universe... as the side with Icehouse was at its end.
Right songs, right place, right time.
i thank You, God.

Of course, having those songs fresh in my mind set me up to talk about Mama's death on Thursday... and, again, last night.
The Peace guy, my dear Rogue, was in town from Jet City.
Carolyn and I joined him at Betty Bombers after our shift at the Lucas was done. What an evening it had been with the Savannah Philharmonic's season opener! "Scheherazade" was, of course, the featured music of this production of "The Thousand And One Nights" and I had sat on the stairs, in my little black dress, with Inessa, closing our eyes and drinking deeply of the notes... oh, my!
Then a late dinner with Carolyn Maggi and my dear Joe, with a special guest appearance by Roy Wood...
(smile)
in a slightly squashed cowboy hat...
(SMILE)
following lots of stories from Carolyn, including the one from the night she and I had gone to a burlesque show...
(sMilE!)
what a hoot!
We were there for close to three hours, even closing the place down... and the time had flown by!
After our final hugs in the street, she had left and Joe and I had stayed talking for a while.
He was talking about his new relationship, now going on for about six months. I mentioned JinHi and Mark's 17th anniversary just last Saturday. Then I remarked that I would have been having my 25th anniversary in October, if not for the divorce ten years ago. I told him I didn't think I would ever have a 25th anniversary with anyone else, even "if I were to marry someone tomorrow" because I would have to be 84 to reach that marker. I added, "No one in my family has lived that long."
(This echoes the conversation I had with the bfe on Friday night. That was brought on because some friends have been celebrating their 25th anniversary this month... meaning they had wed in 1982, just as I had.)
Next, Joe wanted to talk about his aging parents (now 83 and 86) and just needed to vent. The hurricane had blown them into his apartment and life had been strained lately.
I told him that I honestly did not have any experience with aging parents.
That's when he asked how my parents had died.
For Mama, who died just after her 63rd birthday, I spoke of her over-production of red blood cells due to a genetic disorder. The disease eventually caused her liver to fail.
(I didn't tell him that the cirrhosis was heightened by her increased drinking the last year of her life. I had told the bfe that part, as his consumption of alcohol is at a dangerous level.)
For Daddy, who had died just after his 73rd birthday, I spoke of his duodenal cancer, discovered too late. I told of his decision to not undergo chemo or radiation, but to fully enjoy the end of his life.
Joe agreed about that being a good choice.
Then, Joe gave me one more hug, saying "I feel like I really accomplished something today."
Me, too, my dear man.
Me, too.

i thank You, God.