I had a talking to with my soul one morning this week. I was awash in shame. It was from a sharply defined memory of something simple I’d done to my grandmother years ago. I chose to write about it. It spilled over into regrets over things I’d said and done to my daughter, mother, sister, son. It was like an intense atonement session. The Grandma incident forced me to realize how little I understood about aging at the time, though I thought of myself as perceptive. It also showed me that even when my intentions were good, I could really blow it. I wrote and wrote and attached images.
And, then I was done. That is, until I just now heard this poignant song by Nina Simon on an archive addition of This American Life (my addiction). Though it was written for her in ’64, I’d known this song from the Animals version when I was a teenager. Some believe it was related to Nina Simon's Civil Rights music of those times, but I believe this is a more personal story. For me it is the perfect soundtrack to my process of recollecting past mistakes.
And, Yusuf Islam’s version. Or Cat Stevens to those of us old enough to remember . . .