Baby girl don't leave me all alone...

Irish Gumbo remembering, memorializing his brother yesterday in thought, heart longing dredged up my own longing before I went to sleep. If you can call it that...at times...

Children as they often do have their own personalities the minute they hit this oxygenated world. One is as fragile as life itself, or maybe even in the variance of the color pink itself, but needing constant care and hugs. The other leaps over the sofa before he could crawl, clinging to my ankle like I was a kooky bed hair scientist who's only lab assistant was behind him with an ever changing hump in his back. He would always be there looking up to me as if his life depended on it.

So, in an instant out of time they wanted their own music playing on the radio. Never a dull moment in every move we made each day. No wonder I was so thin back in the eighties and nineties. I had to make a plan or I would just freakin' go nuts. A wise mother always knows to make up the rules as you go along, and always remember what you tell them. If they question you, tell the truth, but in a keen 'when you get older you can do it your own way' answer... Kids always think its going on in every one else's house right?

I designated Sunday my radio day. Monday and Wednesday was Anelisa's day. Tuesday and Thursday was Aaron's radio day; Friday again was my day, and Saturday was the radio's day. Meaning if I turned it on, we counted to three and I hit a button. What it landed on according to the tuner, was what we listened to. A well rounded classical, pop, rock and roll, latin, pop, rock and roll, NPR kind of mix-up. I would never make a great DJ, but hey I gave my kids a good sense of all kinds of music.

Anelisa's day was hell. Yep, Aaron and I hated pop, well, we tolerated it until a song came on we could get into. Dig into, in a body moving kind of way. See he had rhythm, but she did not. Latin music came on, he and I would begin to move around the room or in the car; shaking it like a low rider on crack.

My last memory of 'musica' in the car was when Aunt Mary, my little sister was in the back seat with Anelisa. Aaron and I in the front. God knows Mary was an instigator of bad behavior like aunts can be! Yep, it was Aunt Mary's 'musica' in the car day. HUH? WTF! So, the Marc Anthony CD came out of no where and the car began to rock...yeah, like a low riding crack cocaine be bop hoppin john chicken fryin' who the heck knows...and it was just not one song; it was this song...over and over and over and over and over...get ready...hit play...violins take it! Wait I have speakers? Louder? Wait!!! the windows are down, and we have not left the driveway yet...

Memory take me over, move my body...let me feel again..."don't leave me all alone out here...tell me baby girl...cause I need to know..............my ever thought is of this being true....girl you gotta let me know which way to go.......it's getting harder not to think of you.........."



Tell me baby girl cause I need to know...

March 1st is her 24th birthday...I can only imagine what she would listen to these days, or wear? Yikes...or who she would bring home...