The Voice Of An Angel

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                                The Voice Of An Angel




     There have been people who claim to have heard the Angels sing and what a beautiful sound they made. I can't tell you that I have heard Angels sing but I can say that I have heard the voice of an Angel.
     Everyday for forty seven years I listened as Linda sang her songs and she knew a lot of  them. She sang along with the radio, she sang along with the CD's as she sewed, she sang as she sat on the back deck watching the birds and squirrels play. Linda was always singing and if she couldn't remember the words she would make them up but the important thing was that she had the voice to carry the tune - the voice of an Angel.
     When we first met, Linda was just seventeen, the Beatles, Elvis, the Mamma's and Pappa's , Simon and Garfunkel and many other great groups were constantly on the radio with their latest hit song and every teenage girl knew the words to all of them, Linda was no exception. As it turns out she came from a musical family, her mother played the guitar by ear as did her sister Eileen, she had several aunts and uncles - on her mothers side - who also played musical instruments and sang. Her mother once played on the radio in upstate New York with her two sisters when they were teens. Linda for some reason was the odd man out as she didn't play an instrument but she could read music which was something that her mother and Eileen couldn't do and she could sing. Years later I paid for her to take lessons on the guitar and she did OK but for some reason her heart was never in it, I think in part she never felt she would be as good as Eileen but she tried until kids started coming along.
     When ever she got together with her Mom and Eileen, the guitars would come out and the singing would commence, Mom would last till about 11:00 pm, I would make it till maybe 2:00 am but Linda and Eileen would go all night. Eileen had a beautiful voice in her own right and when coupled with Linda's the harmony was as good or even better than what was on the radio. The few songs they couldn't remember were written down in a note book that was laid out in front of them as they sat cross legged in the floor singing, giggling and laughing. Many years later Eileen made a cassette tape for her, it had all of the songs they would sing together, she would play the cassette over and over singing along with Eileen for hours. Sadly the cassette or the player wore out and has been lost.
     It seemed that for many years the music didn't change all that much, bands broke apart, new bands came about but the music of our youth seemed to grow along with us and there were the musicals like the Sound of Music and Mary Poppins. The music we grew up with became known as the "OLDIES " and everywhere we went we could find an Oldies station. I can't tell you when but I think it was sometime in the late 90"s that the local oldies station would only play the top 40 tunes, it was about that time that Linda started listening to Country music.
     Country music tells a story, it can make you laugh or cry, clap your hands and tap your feet to the rhythm, it is the mother of all music, I think it reminded her of the songs her mother used to sing. Country music was from a time long forgotten, it was her break from reality, a part of the beauty of her life. Every day she would sing sometimes to the artist on the radio or CD, sometimes to herself from memory, she didn't need a TV to occupy her mind, her music was already there.
      Linda prized the vocal ability of the artist almost as much as the songs they sang, Julie Andrews and Dolly Parton were two of her favorites. One of Linda's favorite country artist was Garth Brooks, I recently heard him on the radio singing " If Tomorrow Never Comes ", the rest of the lyrics go " will she know how much I loved her ". I had heard the song many times before but I never really listened to it, now that I have, it makes me glad of all the times I told her how much I loved her and of all the times I held her tight and kissed her, I can only hope it was enough.
     No, I never heard the Angels sing but once upon a time my world resonated with the voice of an Angel, now I listen to the radio in the truck as I drive around knowing that this is as good as it will ever be again, and I am sad.
     

   

A Question Of Why

                                  A Question Of Why





     The brain of a young child develops by watching and listening to the world around them, then as they learn to vocalize they ask questions and as any parent can tell you their questions can sometimes drive you nuts especially when the answer you give them prompts them to come back with that annoying question " WHY ", it makes no difference how you answer the " why " question as nine out of ten times they will come back with another " why ". Questions like these give a whole new meaning to the word - infinity, answering the question "why is the sky blue" could generate at least a dozen "why's" and take hours to answer.
     The word "why" is somewhat of an enigma, according to Websters dictionary it is a multi use word that can be used as a noun, adverb, conjunction, an interjection and if you add an "s" to the end it becomes plural. It can express sorrow, excitement, laughter and fear, it can cast doubt and guide one down the right path. For the moment I can't think of another word that has such a wide range, my learned sister Vickie probably can. But let's look at this another way, just because we grow into adulthood does not mean that we no longer seek knowledge nor do we no longer question the status quo, nay the search continues. Even from the depths of old and decrepit brain cells a question mark can still arise, just not as often.  Maybe because by a certain age we have more time on our hands to ponder the little nuances that have troubled our thoughts for years that we attempt to solve the woe's of the world, and "why" not, it may be our last chance for greatness.
     Take for example something that has troubled me since learning to spell in grade school. The word Wednesday, this word represents the middle day of the week and to my knowledge has no other meaning but I want to know "why" there are two " d's " in the spelling when everybody pronounces the word " Wensday " with one "d" . I can't tell you how many times I have misspelled this word, I even looked at my calendar prior to this writing just to be sure I was getting it right. Words with silent letters have always confused me as my mind keeps asking if that letter is silent "why" then is it there at all, the answer I give my mind is "why, how should I know", nobody else seems to know "why" either, I have asked.  Fortunately this newest generation doesn't have to worry about spelling, they just have to know where the spell check button is although if you follow social media it is obvious some people have yet to find the spell check button.
      Us old folks already know all the answers so we don't ask "why" too often and when we do we are skeptical about the answer we are given. Our memory, which at times trails behind us like a long shadow, doesn't always correspond with the information given to us so we like to mull things over for a while  so we don't come off as some senile old person with drool running down our cheek. So here I am an old fart with time on my hands to ponder the little mysteries of life and ask " why " along the way. Truth be known I really don't care what the answer might be as I am too old to worry about being right or wrong but when you have time on your hands you have to think about something. Then again if enough thought is put into the right pondering I might just have my 15 minutes of fame, if I come up with an answer the world has been waiting for.
     One such thought provoking subject is water, I have heard about the world wide water shortage for years and how it will eventually be a bigger concern than the oil shortage. Now standing on the banks of a river watching water flow by knowing that it's destination is the ocean makes me scratch my head especially when it is the mighty Mississippi River who's banks I have stood on, millions of gallons flow by in the time it takes to blow your nose. This is a moment when I brainstorm and think about the Alaskan pipe line which pumps crude oil from the north slopes over mountain ranges to the gulf of Alaska and then down here in the lower 48 we buried pipe lines to pump gas all over the country. Seem to me the answer is obvious " why " can't we build a pipeline to carry water from the Mississippi River to say Phoenix, AZ.or for that matter pump water from the Nile River into the deep Saharan Desert, "why" let it pour into the ocean. There we go problem solved and it didn't take a rocket scientist - not bad for an old guy.
     The next thought provoking subject is - neckties. Many years ago Linda and I worked for banks, the jobs didn't pay all that much but there was a lot of prestige in working for a bank, any way Linda would go to work nicely dressed in a skirt, blouse and matching jacket all of which was very comfortable as well as pleasing to the eye. I on the other hand had to wear a suit and tie, often with a vest, a combination known as a three piece suit. The suits were usually dark colored with white shirts - bankers never wore colored shirts - the only piece that really stood out was the neck tie but they too  had to be reserved and appropriate for banking.  I can't complain about the dress code because I did look very handsome, if I do say so myself, but the thing that bothered me and many others like me was the need to wear a neck tie at all. It was difficult to get a shirt that fit correctly around the neck - usually to tight - and then have to tie a strip of cloth around your neck and cinch it tight, I felt sorry for those guys with large Adams Apples. Neck ties were uncomfortable, they were always in the way and when eating usually wound up speckled with bits of the meal. So I ask you, "why" would a man in his right mind want to truss himself up in a three piece suit and neck tie every day ? You know it is rumored that the neck tie was invented by a woman with a strong desire to choke the living daylights out of her husband or maybe it was her boyfriend or both.
     So now comes the question of  "why" are neck ties necessary other than prestige and good looks. I would think that men would definitely be more comfortable and the appearance of success and prestige could more confidently be expressed by a man dressed in slacks, an opened collared shirt and tweed sport coat. Add a Florida tan and a couple of gold chains around his neck and you have a banker though some may refer to him as a shyster - same difference.
     One thing I have come to realize since I have become a senior citizen is that time does not pass at the same rate of speed as it did when I was a kid, seems that as I got older and slower father time kicked things into a higher gear. Remember being a kid waiting for Christmas to come around and it did ever so slowly. Forget the fact that it only came once a year, those first eleven months flew by in comparison to the last twenty five days filled with excruciating hours of having to be good all the time. As I write this, Christmas is only eight days away and I am still not ready for it, it gets here too quickly now days.
      "Why" does time pass differently for the young than it does for the elderly ? I distinctly remember when I was young, I couldn't wait to be older so I could do all the things I wanted without having to ask permission or have to be home by a certain time. No matter how hard I tried it took a long time for those first eighteen years to pass. Now I am pushing seventy and there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do, seems like I no sooner get out of bed and it's time to get back in it. "Why" it was only six years ago that I retired and three years ago that I became a Grandpa,  in my mind those days were yesterday. So much has happened in such a short amount of time that I want to plug the hole in the hour glass to slow the sands, I want to enjoy the fruits of my life but the time seems to pass too quickly.
      Now I am asking myself  "why" am I not spending more time with the Grand Kids or "why" am I not on the lake fishing. After all I am getting to old to be worrying about things that have never changed and most likely never will, let the next generation scratch their head and ask "why" and when Michaela  or Matthew ask why the sky is blue I'm going to send them to Mom or Dad and maybe, just maybe, they will be the ones that turn the world around - "why" not ?