Friday, July 5, 2013


Today is my mother’s birthday. Unfortunately, I remember her on this day but am not able to celebrate with her at my side. Momma went home 34 years ago this coming August; at a time when I was much too young to be without her.

I’ve talked about Momma on my blog before. You might remember the time I called her an old walrus. Funny as that was, it’s even more hilarious because at the time we were in a small aluminum fishing boat and there was no way to escape her wrath.

I’m not sure if I mentioned how on Saturday nights she would literally roll up the rug in the living room and she and Daddy would dance to the music of Lawrence Welk. They would take turns dancing with me, teaching me the latest steps (not really, but keep in mind that Momma was 40 years old when I was born, Daddy a year older) and we had a blast.

My parents had a distinctive whistle, just about eight or ten notes that I have never heard anyone use in this particular combination before or since. Unfortunately, I never could whistle, but they did use it to call me and signal to each other.

I remember sitting at my desk in the Summit County Assessor’s office in Breckenridge, Colorado early in August of 1979 when I heard that whistle. I got up from my desk and went out into the large entryway of the old courthouse expecting to find one or both of my parents, although they lived in Chicago at that time. I was getting married in about three weeks and thought that maybe they decided to come out early and help with the preparations. (Momma had been ill, but Daddy promised me that she would be able to make the trip.)

When my parents weren’t there, I came back in and asked a few co-workers if they heard somebody whistling. No one did. I immediately tried to call my parents, worrying that something was wrong. It took me three days to get a hold of Daddy, who told me Momma was in the hospital, but not to worry; it was only for some tests.

I got married August 25th and my parents were not there. Daddy said the doctors refused to let Momma travel and that she was undergoing more tests, but she would call me as soon as she was able. Since I was leaving on a honeymoon, it was decided that I would call home every day in the hopes of being able to talk to her.

Five days later on August 30th, I called from the back of a bar in Telluride, Colorado and Daddy told me that Momma had died. She was sicker than he ever let on in the previous months, but they had decided that they wanted me to go ahead with my wedding.

OK, sad story, something I have never gotten over, BUT there’s more. When I finally made it back to Chicago for the funeral my Aunt Clara, Momma’s sister, told me that Momma had died about three weeks previous, sometime in early August around 3 in the afternoon and Daddy had the hospital staff resuscitate her (something neither of them had ever wanted). When I confronted my father and he was able to confirm the day of the week that this occurred, I’m sure it was exactly at the time I heard my parents whistle about a thousand miles away.

I’ve often wondered if I was Daddy’s heart calling out for her not to go, or Momma reassuring him and me that ‘everything was going to be OK’.

I remember Momma on this day and miss her terribly every day of my life.

     {I played 'Stardust' for you there at the beginning because this was
       my parents 'song'. Probably not necessarily the version by Willie
       but,  none the less, it makes me think of them dancing together}


  1. Just reading about that whistle, made me break out in the goose bumps. Thank you for sharing your story. And I understand all too well about missing someone every single day of your life. My hope is to one day, be reunited in glory, where we will never have to be separated again.

  2. You just put a knot on my throat. My grandfather, who is in the dragon dimension now, had a very specific whistle that all the family learned. We also called and identify each other from afar with that whistle. It's an amazing story. Think one day you'll meet again. I do so, very often. My best!

  3. This reminded me of my own mom, faraway. She passed in 2004, after she had been sick for a year or so. The docs kept checking for causes, but kept changing their diagnosis. She lived in the States, and was in the hospital when Sis called me thinking our mom was dying.

    I flew down the next day, and she talked the hospital into letting her come home while I was there. I left after a week, and she passed a month later just as Ivan was hitting the Florida and Georgia coasts.. .I still miss her terribly.

    Take care.

  4. I feel lucky I still have both my moms but my dad died a few years back and while he was 'old' and went peacefully in his sleep I still wish he was around.

    I'm sorry you lost your mom, especially during a time when you were supposed to be celebrating a new life.

  5. I think you did hear your father whistle for her.
    I'm sorry for the sadness this day brings. That all days without her bring.

  6. Life is sure mystical sometimes, you probably did her him or her whistle.

  7. NITRO ~
    I'm listening to Willie Nelson sing 'STARDUST' while I sip this CRUZAN 'Vanilla Rum'. Sheesh! OK, maybe life isn't so bad... sometimes.

    Willie wasn't no Waylon, but I did like a couple of his songs a great deal ('On The Road Again' and 'You Were Always On My Mind').

    But I can still remember the day my Pa came home all excited about this new cassette tape he'd just bought: 'STARDUST' by Willie Nelson.

    He put it on and my Ma just kinda shrugged. At that time, I thought the only good music was (Classic) Rock, so I just shrugged too. But many years later I discovered that my Pa's 33.33% opinion was the correct one.

    The thought of Willie Nelson singing 'standards' seems odd. But add the great Booker T. Jones as producer and arranger and miracles can happen.

    My all-time favorite watering hole was 'The Crest House' lounge. On the jukebox, G-5 was 'BLUE SKIES', and G-6 was 'MOONLIGHT IN VERMONT' - both from Willie's 'Stardust' album. I played G-5 and G-6 over and over and fell in love with them. Next stop? Buy the compact disc 'STARDUST' by Willie Nelson and fall in love with the entire album (except for 'Someone To Watch Over Me' - I STILL don't like that song... by anyone!)

    I'd read the story in this blog bit before. Loved it then, love it now. My guess is that your Ma whistled to let you know she was out-of-the-body and just fine.

    My Pa has contacted me from 'The Beyond' so many times that I KNOW this stuffs REALLY happens. (My Pa's method of choice has been the music of Nat King Cole - his favorite singer - although he has used other methods at times also.)

    Those who lack the necessary Faith will always doubt people like you and me:

    They'll always think "Oh, you just THOUGHT you heard that whistle", or "Oh, it was just a COINCIDENCE that you saw a vision of 'stardust' falling down over you while in meditation, and the song that was playing on the radio five minutes later when you left the meditation room and started up your Pa's truck was 'Stardust', being sung by Nat King Cole."

    Those who lack Faith in the spiritual world are confined to this physical one. What a shame.

    I wonder if your Ma and Anniee have met in Heaven.

    Anniee... Ha! There's another one. She's contacted BOTH of us from 'The Beyond', hasn't she?

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  8. Sorry for your sadness. What a beautiful song to commemorate this day.


  9. Losing a mother cracks the foundation upon which we exists...and that rupture never goes away. (((HUG)))

  10. NWB ~
    I trust you understood that when I said I love this story, I certainly was not speaking about your loss and the very unfortunate way you learned of it.

    What I love is the supernatural aspect of it and the evidence it supplies for the argument that we are spiritual beings, created by an Eternal Father, and our true identities, tied to very temporary physical bodies, continue to survive in our natural spiritual state after the shell we've been using returns to the earth.

    I'm sure you fully understood my meaning, but I wanted to make sure that my compassion regarding your loss was not overlooked by anyone.

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  11. Jaybird - I know that will happen.

    Al - Thank you for sharing that about your family. Of course, we each think our own family invented things like this, when It's probably pretty common, but I'm pretty sure each 'whistle' is distinctive.

    D.G. - Glad to you got to b with your Mom near the end. No matter how old w grow, losing our parents, I think, mothers in particular is something you never get over.

    Alex - Thanks. I know I did.

    Pat - No doubt in my mind.

    STMc - A thousand thank yous for this lovely comment. I love hearing stories about your family. I sure hope you and the rest of the folks who stop by here, don't mind hearing about mine. I too feel sorry for those who are 'confined to the physical world'.

    Lindannie, I look forward to meeting her one day.

    As to your 'second comment'; I knew exactly what you meant and appreciate that you also love this story.

    Donna - Thanks. I really like this song. As a matter of fact I like the whole album. I still own it as an LP. I seriously need to replace it in CD format.

    DL - You're right about the rupture never going away - at least in this lifetime.

  12. That's so sad. I'm glad though that you have some lovely memories.

  13. Happy Birthday to your Momma. Thanks for sharing this wonderful tribute to her.

  14. Sorry that your mother left so early. She must have had some other things to attend to. Strange how people can go at least expected times. My father left this Earth far too early. Fortunately my mother is still with us and I call her frequently.

    Tossing It Out

  15. This makes me weep for everything you missed out as a young wife, mother...Today you will honor your mother. Remembering her whistle, dancing to Welk music...wonderful memories.

  16. Made me cry. Beautiful post, and a new you!