Saturday, November 27, 2010

Run, Little Rabbit, Run


Mindy, my sweet girl, said "Mom, I found your theme song."  I laughed, of course, imagining all of the crazy directions that theme could go.  But Mindy surprised me.  She knows me better than I thought. 

A few months before I had my first Post Traumatic Stress episode, I was taking a class at the U. of U. called The Psychology of Childrens' Literature.  It was a fantastic class that taught me how books can teach children important life lessons in a subtle, gentle way.  On the first day of class, the professor asked us all to say which animal represented out personality.  Some people said magnificent animals, like tigers, eagles, lions, and bears.  Others said dogs or cats.  I said that I was a bunny rabbit.  In my thinking, it was a perfect choice.  I was soft, round and fluffy.  I did not hunt other animals, and I was a peaceful creature.  (One would think, as much as I love horses, that I would have chosen to be a horse.)
When the professor heard my answer, he laughed and said, "Awww, timid little creature.  Watch out for those predators!"

A couple of months after that I saw a face that triggered memories blocked way back in my brain, and that's when my life fell apart. 

So when Mindy gave me my theme song, I wondered, how did she know?  The gentleness of Matt Duke's song is my favorite kind of music, and the lyrics have fit my life at one time or another.  I'd like to think that this shy rabbit has more courage now than when my strange journey called agoraphobia began.


Don't forget to push pause on the music playing (on the right column).


Rabbit

by Matt Duke



Every sentiment hangs around

No longer than a minute or two

I find I keep falling for love

But I can't seem to follow it through



So run, little rabbit, run



I leave one good hand on the wheel

Been counting mile markers for days

Everything falls further behind

I can disappear in several ways



So run, little rabbit, run





Sleep through the morning

Don't wake me up

Sleep through the morning

One little man to one mighty sun



Try to break away from yourself

Throw your broken bones in a heap

All the blood and guts are exposed

Your spirit has been begging to leave


Thanks, Mindy.  I love you.






Friday, November 19, 2010

Bend, Little Willow



I played the song, Little Willow, to Mom in the early morning hours on the day she passed away.  I used to sing it to her when she got restless and combative at the worst times of her dementia.  I've played the CD at home so many times, I'm sure my family knows all of the words by heart.  I've even planted a little willow tree in our back yard in Mom's honor.  It's a fragile little thing, but it bends in the harsh winds.  I can't help but worry about it.  I wish it would grow strong and tall.  It is one of the things that connects me to Mom, so I don't want to lose it. Sometimes I see myself as a little willow tree. 

Today Mindy found a video that tells the story about why Paul McCartney wrote Little Willow.  Anyway, push play, and listen to Little Willow.
(push pause on the music list on the side of the page)






Little Willow

by Paul McCartney


Bend, little willow
Wind's gonna blow you
Hard and cold tonight

Life, as it happens
Nobody warns you
Willow, hold on tight

Nothing's gonna shake your love
Take your love away
No one's out to break your heart
It only seems that way... hey

Sleep, little willow
Peace gonna follow
Time will heal your wounds

Grow to the heavens
Now and forever
Always came too soon

Little willow

Nothing's gonna shake your love
Take your love away
No one's out to break your heart
It only seems that way... hey

Bend, little willow
Wind's gonna blow you
Hard and cold tonight

Life, as it happens
Nobody warns you
Willow, hold on tight

Ah, little willow