May You Stay Forever Young…

The continuing saga of my Earworm…

Once in a while a new song embeds itself into my heart the first time I hear it. I love it when that happens. It feels like I am discovering a piece of me that has been missing. Maybe that Cosmic DJ who cues up my Earworm chooses them to file away in his permanent collection of songs that play over and over in my head.

Tonight, I watched one of my new favorite TV series, Sons of Anarchy – (hey—there's a biker chick hidden in every woman who's worth knowing…) The episode opened and closed with one of my favorite songs by Bob Dylan, Forever Young. It's been so many years since I heard Dylan do it that I'd forgotten it. The singer, Audra Mae (hear her sing it) has such a fresh, clean voice that she made it brand new for me.

It says what I would like sung at my funeral as my message to all the people that I love, especially to my kids.

May God bless and keep you always,

May your wishes all come true,

May you always do for others

And let others do for you.

May you build a ladder to the stars

And climb on every rung,

May you stay forever young,

Forever young, forever young,

May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,

May you grow up to be true,

May you always know the truth

And see the lights surrounding you.

May you always be courageous,

Stand upright and be strong,

May you stay forever young,

Forever young, forever young,

May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,

May your feet always be swift,

May you have a strong foundation

When the winds of changes shift.

May your heart always be joyful,

May your song always be sung,

May you stay forever young,

Forever young, forever young.

With Thanksgiving out of the way, it was nice to hear something so sweet. I survived one more Thanksgiving without committing suicide. Twenty Thanksgivings have come and gone and haven't yet claimed me. It was twenty years ago my husband died a few days before Thanksgiving. I haven't escaped a November since without my grief becoming almost as new as that day he died. That we died. A part of me went with him, and I've never recovered it. It only proves that we are made one when we take our beloveds in marriage. I felt then that half of me had died. Twenty years later, I know I got some of me back, but a huge part of me went with him. And every Thanksgiving I wish that I could join him but I don't. Not yet. No. Not yet…

Copyright © 2009 Stephanie Ericsson All Rights Reserved