Musical Tears

dancing at wedding
March 31, 2017 – Before It All – Zoe and Jordan’s wedding.

Susie Notes:  Our 44 year old son has been diagnosed with Leukodystrophy, and is in ‘an altered mind state”.  Read: dementia


Since all this has happened we’ve tried to find little ways to make us happy.

We’ve been married over 46 years and have enjoyed music that has eventually played out the story of our life together.

Our Bose stereo system was over 20 years old.  After being ‘fixed’ ten years ago, it’s been disabled for a long time, holding cd’s hostage for too many years. Bossman hooked it up to another CD player for a while but I had to use three remotes to run the working  CD player that was on the bottom shelf, a quarter of an inch from the floor. I wear progressive bifocals. Fagedaboudit. I strained my neck trying to figure out what stupid button did what.

A few days ago, I wandered into the living room, stood in front of  the cd player with all my music in it and started to cry.

Bossman said, “What’s the matter?”

I sat on the edge of the coffee table, looking at that blurry old cd player and said, “All I want is my music.” I sobbed and he held me.

Monday he went to one of the Big Box stores, Sam’s or Costco, priced out equipment and came home to share what was on sale.

“Go get it. We need it.”

He went to the bank with his safe deposit key, and took out money from his dad’s estate sale that he’d been saving for the last eight years. (this is very odd, since Bossman will research something until it’s out-of-date) He brought home a new speaker bar and had it set up before dinner was ready.

For the first time, in a long time, we danced with tears in the living room to our music.






Teary-Mom Time of Year

I’ve been reading a lot of posts on FaceBook from my friends about kids going off to school. Some are going for the first time, some are returning in the middle of completing steps to graduating from high school and then some are moving on to college which might be hours or days away from home.

My kids are not kids anymore. They are in their forties and I am no longer a young mom, teary -eyed at watching them go through childhood. I am an older and wiser teary-eyed mom watching them go through life’s trials and heartaches. One has a medical disability and the other is looking for a fresh start in a new state.

I wrote these two poems during my younger-mom years. The first was in 1981 when my youngest started Kindergarten.

 The Quiet

The day has come, it’s finally here
They’re gone all day, there’s no one near.
There seems to be one sound I hear,
The quiet; how it hurts my ears.


The second poem is when my first-born son went off to college.

First Son

Why didn’t anyone tell me how I’d feel
when I walked into his room to raise the blinds
and faded squares and rectangles glared from the walls
once covered in posters of fast cars and pretty women?

Why didn’t anyone tell me how I’d feel
when I looked into his closet that used to be
packed with jeans and tee shirts and sneakers
and now holds only empty tangled hangers?

Why didn’t anyone tell me how I’d feel
when I answered the phone on the first ring
and it wasn’t one of his buddies calling
and more importantly, it wasn’t him?

Why didn’t anyone tell me how I’d feel
when I realized this was the end of his
childhood, the beginning of his future
and a new beginning for me?

Did anyone tell him how I’d feel?

Children growing older and doing what we’ve raise them to do is heart-wrenching sometimes. It’s a time of growth for kids and for parents. It can be survived, and looking back, the memories are sweet and real.

These tears will become cherished memories.

I promise.