A quick announcement, I will be on a break until October 16th celebrating our daughters’ weddings, one week apart. When I return I will update you with regard to our donation to the victims in Maui. I’ll miss y’all.
I was listening to Norah Jones’ “Humble Me” earlier this week, which I wrote about on Monday. Typically, I move on from a song, especially if I’ve used it to write a post. But this song continued to play on repeat in my mind on walks, grocery shopping, driving, etc.
As I sat down to craft my final thoughts before the weddings, Nora was waiting patiently for me to complete this post with her assistance. As I mentioned Monday, these lyrics don’t particularly fit my story, but snippets do, and the melody haunts me.
I decided to follow the guidance that I don’t claim to understand and share what verses speak to me as I am writing this post, weaving a path through my memories. The melody completes the meaning of the words in ways I can’t describe.
This post feels like a puzzle, which I won’t work too hard to decipher. I’m just going to place the pieces where they feel right.
I’ll share the complete lyrics below. Give a listen to the melody if you haven’t already.
Heading into my sweet girl’s wedding, I’ve been revisited by my parents often. A few weeks back, I wrote about my mom, Helen, and the sorrow I experienced in planning my wedding without her involvement.
Please please please forgive me
Stranded at the outskirts and sun’s creepin’ up
Baby’s in the backseat
Dreaming of better days
My father was a musician. He loved music as a young boy and worked hard to afford his lessons. He became an accomplished violin player, as well as a saxophonist. His yearbooks proclaim him as a well-liked young man, talented, full of spirit and a bit of the devil. On October 7th of 1929, my dad played both violin and sax in the orchestra aboard the S.S. President McKinley.
A few years later in the dead of winter, traveling with his arm out the window holding his cigarette, he hit black ice. His car rolled, and his ability to play music became a memory.
What do you say when it’s all gone away?
When I came into this world, my father had long since accepted his fate, at least outwardly. He made light of his disfigured hand and the scar on his stomach where they had removed skin to graft his wrist. He would tell people he’d been shot. He loved to flip the bird with his missing middle finger.
Truth spoke in whispers will tear you apart
No matter how hard you resist it
It never rains when you want it to
You humble me Lord
He never shared his pain. I was oblivious. All I understood was that my dad loved his music and had once been a musician. The big bands played throughout the years on his 8-track cassette in his garage workshop.
Stranded at the outskirts and sun’s creepin’ up
Baby’s in the backseat
Dreaming of better days
It wasn’t until years after his passing that I attended my first symphony in San Jose with my friend Lois. A short way into the program, the violin ensemble began playing, and that’s all I really remember about the night.
I’d never heard a violin concerto. I swiped tears continually throughout the performance.
It was the moment in my life that I realized what my father had missed out on and what I had also in turn missed out on… my father’s music.
What might his music have cured, inspired, and healed for our small family?
The experience changed me and brought me closer to my father, even though he had already passed.
What do you say when it’s all gone away?
Baby I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Last Thanksgiving, at the home of my soon-to-be in-laws, listening to their son-in-law Dave play the fiddle (Dave is truly a master of the violin), I was transported back to the evening at the symphony. My tears fell that day as well, but it didn’t come as the shock it had so many years before. Instead, I felt like I was home.
You humble me Lord.
I’m on my knees empty.
You humble me Lord.
Moments ago in photographing the photo I have of my dad for this post, I noticed that the date of his performance on the Promenade Deck at 8:45 p.m. onboard the S.S. President McKinley was October 7th, the date we will celebrate Amy and Michael’s wedding, 94 years to the day later. (I was born when my father was 49.)
A way to connect from different planes?
I’m still here, sweetie. I’ll be at the wedding in spirit, watching sweet little Amy, with that twinkle in her eye, marry Michael. He’s quite a wonderful man she’s fallen in love with. I’ve sent Dave in my place to serenade you since I can’t make the trip. Oh, and I’ve reminded you I’m still here with the “coincidence” in dates. Love you my Suzy girl.
Amy and Michael’s wedding day, in no uncertain terms, will be focused on their union. But I’d be remiss not noticing that a few healing gifts seem to be coming my way.
In contrast to my wedding so many years ago, where I avoided my mother at all costs throughout the entire event to protect myself, my daughter has asked me to join her father in walking her down the aisle, an honor that should become the norm for all mothers.
You humble me Lord.
Amy, her father, and I will travel the short distance to the altar while Dave serenades us with his incredulously beautiful fiddle playing.
You humble me Lord. I’m on my knees empty.
I accept these gifts as the universe’s message that life is a never-ending journey of healing and forgiveness.
We must never lose faith in goodness, understanding that even if it never rains when we want it to, there might be another way as we dream of better days.
Thanks for being here, dear readers.
You humble me.
Here are the Norah’s lyrics and the link to the video is in Monday’s post.
Went out on a limb
Gone too far
Broken down at the side of the road
Stranded at the outskirts and sun's creepin' upBaby's in the backseat
Still fast asleep
Dreamin' of better days
I don't want to call you but you're all I have to turn toWhat do you say
When it's all gone away
Baby I didn't mean to hurt you
Truth spoke in whispers will tear you apart
No matter how hard you resist it
It never rains when you want it toYou humble me Lord
Humble me Lord
I'm on my knees empty
You humble me Lord
You humble me Lord
Please, please, please forgive meBaby Teresa got your eyes
I see you all the time
When she asks about her daddy
I never know what to sayHeard you kicked the bottle
And helped to build the church
You carry an honest wage
Is it true you have someone keeping you companyWhat do you say
When it's all gone away
Baby I didn't mean to hurt you
Truth spoke in whispers will tear you apart
No matter how hard you resist it
It never rains when you want it toYou humble me Lord
Humble me Lord
I'm on my knees empty
You humble me Lord
You humble me Lord
Please, please, forgive me
You humble me
Beautiful tribute!
I love how you found so much connection with this song, and the "coincidence" in dates. Amazing.