When Memories Hit Hard

My mom is 86 years old.  She doesn't get around like she used to.  Her memory is fading and she is getting forgetful.

She had asked me to take her to a party that she enjoys going to.  Her friends up in Heber, Utah have a party every September, where they play old country songs and have a sing along.  It's not really my thing, but, I want her to have days where she enjoys herself.  Ted came along.  It was frustrating as we got closer to the party, as she always forgets where the turn off is. After driving around for a bit, and a phone call, we finally found our way.  By that point, my nerves were a little on edge - I was already a bit cranky before the journey even started.

We finally got her settled into her party.  Ted and I took a seat outside in the beautiful scenery by the mountains.  The idea of being in that little room had my claustrophobia on high alert.  I took a walk around the yard for a bit, to try and calm my nerves - and that's when it struck me.  The song that they were singing was an old country classic.  It's called, I Want to Go Home.   When I was a kid, we went camping and fishing every weekend during the summer.  I mean EVERY weekend.  My mom and dad would get home from work on Friday afternoon, we would load up the camper and hook up the boat, we would meet up with my aunt and uncle and then head to a reservoir somewhere and camp and fish.

The hours on the boat, for a young girl of nine or ten, would be never ending.  Because of my age, I had to wear a life jacket.  They were these orange life jackets that were hugely puffed out.  My chin would rub on the fabric and irritate it.  It was hot and miserable usually.  I generally would end up crawling up under the nose of the boat and going to sleep because I got so bored with fishing.  I would eventually get whiney and want to "go home" or back to camp.  That's when my dad would start to tease me and sing the song:

I want to go home, I want to go home.
Oh Lord, I want to go home.
Last night I went to sleep in Detroit City.
And I dreamed about those cotton fields back home
I dreamed about my mama,
dear old papa, my sister and brother.
And I dreamed about that girl
whose been waitin' so long.
I want to go home, I want to go home,
Oh Lord I want to go home.

The song is longer than that, that's just the beginning of it.  But when I heard them playing the music and singing the song, I was so suddenly struck by the memory.  The memory of my dad singing the song in the boat so many years ago.   Standing there in that back yard, tears streaming down my face, Ted wondering why I'm bawling and having a hard time to make the words come out to explain why I am suddenly in tears.

What I wouldn't give to have a moment, back in that old camper, back in that old boat, sitting in my  horrible old orange life jacket to hear my daddy singing to me again, I want to go home, I want to go home, oh Lord I want to go home.