You know those song memories we all have of childhood? The ones where our mom is cleaning around the house and singing to herself…or rocking us to sleep, singing softly in our hair? I have many wonderful “song memories” of my mother. While I’m only a young 25 years old, my mother just turned 66 years old last month.
Her childhood took place in a time far remote from the childhood of most of my friends mothers. In fact, my mom could have easily been my friend’s mom’s MOM. I’m not saying that to harp on old age – I’m saying that to how how much I respect the broadened view point of life I received from having been born to “older” parents (mom was 40 and dad was 35 when I was born). The early and mid-1940s were her playground…as was a life lived with 8 brothers and sisters, a small house, walking to church, homecooked meals, city wide WW2 air-raid sirene tests, and no TV. The depression was just starting to show signs of coming to an end, the name “Elvis” had never been heard, Pearl Harbor was “current history”, troops were coming home to a changed landscape with their women at work, and the “I Love Lucy” type of entertainment hadn’t even been invented yet, let alone reality TV!
Growing up, I was culturized into an older, more traditional way of living…a way that was passed down from my parents based on how they grew up.
And much of the way of life that my parents represented, showed up in the songs and musical habits. For instance, I knew of Elvis long before I had heard of Bon Jovi. As a young teen, “For What It’s Worth” was more familiar to me than New Kids on the Block, Ed Sullivan was just as a familiar name as Johnny Carson, and I could name every television show from the 50s and 60s due to the fact that those ”older” sitcoms were the ONLY sitcoms my parents watched.
It’s funny, but it took me years to realize why casually mentioning Mr. Ed, Wuthering Heights, the great Bette Davis, or the magnificently HOTT Clark Gable to my peers would only bring about the most interestingly blank stares.
So, consequently, the songs I remember my mother singing around the house when I was young – and the ones she still sings to this day – reflect this “older” pattern….
- Jimmy Crack Corn
- Little Brown Jug
- Rock of Ages
- Mansion Over the Hilltop
- Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree
- Get Along Home, Cindy Cindy
- Irene Goodnight
- Down In the Valley
She will even occassionally throw in a “more modern” (for her!) TV theme song, such as the Brady Bunch. My favorite times, especially, are when she messes up the lyrics….and says things like “….Three boys and a Dog” (Brady Bunch Theme, it should be “Three boys of his own”). 
She use to mess up unintentionally. But over the years, I have corrected her mis-sung lyrics so many times that it’s a running joke between us. Now, she’ll sometimes sing a song and intentionally screw the lyrics up just to give me the chance to say the real ones….then we’ll burst out laughing.
The memories I have of my mom singing through the years are some of the best in the world. They’re ones I will always carry with me, and is probably the reason why I sing to Little Jack so much. I hope one day, he’ll have fond memories of me, his own mother, singing about the house.
What about you? What songs do you remember your own mother singing? Do you sing to your own children?
