Monday, December 13, 2010

Where we are

As long as I've been singing, my mother has been listening.  Recently though, I spent some time working out vocally and she came downstairs to find out who it was. Voices are sort of like fingerprints. No two are alike and once you know one, you can recognize it anywhere, well except in these circumstances.  That's where we are.

About a week ago, my mother asked my sister whether she (my sister) lived here.  In the course of the conversation, mummy asked Lauren what her name was.  Lauren responded, "Lauren".  Mummy replied, "One of my children is named Lauren."  That's where we are.

There's a comedian in Trinidad who's got this funny line in a song, "Where here is?" (you'd have to hear the whole joke to get the point, but suffice to say in context it's laughing-and-snorting funny).  Some days with my mother's situation, I really want to ask, "Where here is?" and I don't mean to be funny when I do.

Ella Fitzgerald, one of Mummy's favorite performers
Mummy's still here, or some of her is.  We take what we get.  Today for example, a little Ella Fitzgerald on the CD player and good food (and now my sister is talking about Christmas traditions at home in Trinidad) and things are almost normal.  Not completely, but almost.  I can't complain. She may be lost some of the time, but the rest of the time at least we know "Where here is".  That's going to have to do.

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