FOR THE LOVE OF MUSIC

Mother was a beautiful singer. I’m told that before I was born, she sang in nightclubs and later, I remember her singing in the church choir. Often, she would sing as she worked about the house, and the melodies were often popular tunes of the day. I never recall her working outside the home. She had plenty to do just looking after us seven kids.

Perhaps her favorite singer was Perry Como, “Oh There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays,”
followed by Dean Martin singing, “When the moon hits a your eyes like a big pizza pie, that’s amore,” and maybe Frank Sinatra’s, “Night and Day.” They all had the Italian influence, just like Mama. Sometimes she would sing in Italian and would get thrilled when we would try to repeat some of the words. Her life was hard, with her share of drudgery and sadness as well as laughter and joy. Sometimes we kids could get her really happy by telling jokes or doing silly things but her face would really shine when Dad was around. They didn’t always agree but Dad did his best to keep her smiling. It was during those times that she would sing the most.

After dinner, she’d clean up the kitchen and we’d try to help her sometimes, but mostly it was mama who looked after household chores. By the end of the average day, she was pretty exhausted and she’d head for the couch to watch Lawrence Welk or Dinah Shore or Rosemary Cloony. Each of them had their own TV music shows. They seem pretty corny by today’s standards but they were a big treat back then. Sometimes, late at night, we’d watch movie specials with the theme song from, “The High and the Mighty.” All the shows were in black and white and when color TV came out, it was quite a deal.

Mom was very interested during the music shows but they were usually followed by shows like Gunsmoke or Have Gun, Will Travel or Dr. Kildare and these didn’t appeal to her as much and soon she was fast asleep. The next day would start early for her, getting Dad’s lunch, our kids breakfast and lunches and an early start on house cleaning, so she slept when she could. I firmly believe that her love of music softened her load a little. She was always there for us, cleaning our clothes, fixing great meals, with a song in her heart and we just thought everyone’s Mom was like that. As we grew older, we found out how fortunate we were.

Today, I share that heritage and love of songs that she taught us by example. Our kids have beautiful voices and I remember our daughter Suzy in the band, with the clarinet, our Son Scott, playing the trumpet and singing in the barbershop quartet group and our other son, Dan, singing in a choral group where he eventually married a girl who sang in high school with him. Our daughter, Metta, my wife and I sing mostly in the shower with perhaps an occasional choir number thrown in over the years. Our daughter, Melony, has a beautiful soprano voice and sings to her daughter.

There’s something consoling and stress relieving about singing, but for us, it had its roots with Mama.