No I would not give no false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
Oh, little darling of mine, I care for the life of me
Remember a sadder day, that now they say let be
Just don't recount on me in the course of a lifetime run
Over and over again
No I would not give no false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
Oh, little darling of mine, I just can't believe it's so
Though it seems strange to say, I never been laid so low
Such a mysterious way and the course of a lifetime runs
Over and over again
No I would not give no false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
"Mother and Child Reunion"
Paul Simon, c. 1971
My mom will be 95 in March. We're 24 years apart, a fact I'm reminded of as I copy documents to submit for fiancee' Ana's immigration.
There is no recognition in her face for any of my words, even reciting the names of her children draws no response. But, something I said makes her laugh and I'm reminded that I could always make her laugh.
 |
| Lori, 58, Deena, 52 |
I doubt anyone on Earth knows my mom's early history as well as I do, not my mom, not even my two baby sisters, now 58 and 52, who seem almost from a different generation, the last to leave home.
Like me, my mom was advanced to a higher grade during elementary school, but, with nothing else to do in 1940 at age 16 and a slightly younger sister still in school, she stayed an additional post-graduate year at Black Diamond High School. So much for finishing early!
Futilely, I try to show mom a picture of Ana, but I can't get her to even look at my cell phone, let alone focus.
I know better, but I still mention my son, her grandson and his son, her great-grandson, Jack.
I kiss her goodbye and make my way to the door. My attempt to push the door open activates a buzzer and a nurse's aide quickly puts in a code to let me out.
As I'm nearing West Brownsville to check on the next generation, my son and grandson pass by me in their red pickup, waving and smiling. Wow! Four generations in just a few minutes!
And when I die
and when I'm dead, dead and gone,
There'll be one child born and
a world to carry on, to carry on
I'm not scared of dying
and I don't really care
If it's peace you find in dying,
well, then let the time be near
If it's peace you find in dying,
when dying time is here,
Just bundle up my coffin cause
it's cold way down there,
I hear that's it's cold way down there,
yeah, crazy cold way down there
And when I die and when I'm gone,
There'll be one child born and
a world to carry on, to carry on
My troubles are many, they're as deep as a well
I can swear there ain't no heaven but I pray there ain't no hell
Swear there ain't no heaven and pray there ain't no hell,
But I'll never know by living, only my dying will tell,
Only my dying will tell, yeah, only my dying will tell
And when I die and when I'm gone,
There'll be one child born and a world to carry on, to carry on
Give me my freedom for as long as I be
All I ask of living is to have no chains on me
All I ask of living is to have no chains on me,
And all I ask of dying is to go naturally, only want to go naturally
Don't want to go by the devil, don't want to go by the demon,
Don't want to go by Satan, don't want to die uneasy,
Just let me go naturally
And when I die and when I'm gone,
There'll be one child born, there'll be one child born
When I die, there'll be one child born
When I die, there'll be one child born
When I die, there'll be one child born
When I die, there'll be one child born
"And When I Die"
Laura Nyro, performed by
Blood, Sweat and Tears
c. 1969
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