❌Monthly Song Challenge: Archived🎵

Day 8: A song to fall asleep to

Bear with me -- the prompt fits.

We learn so much from our mothers. At my mother's knee, I learned to love books, and reading aloud. I learned to love the ocean, and its beach. I learned to love the stars, and counting satellites deep into the summer night. And music -- so much music. My mother had been a member of a nationally touring choir as well as an accomplished guitarist and pianist. So much of the music I love I learned from her album collection -- even later in my life, she expanded my horizons. And as an adult, the lessons I learned from her helped me find other music to love and pass on. I am my mother's son, or at least the good parts of me.

She passed away earlier this evening, right as the sun was setting. She died as she lived, with peace, dignity, and grace, surrounded by those she loved, and, of course, by music. After we decided to allow the river to flow to it's end, to stop fighting and allow her the modesty of comfort measures, I made her a playlist. Classical, of course -- Beatoven, Bach, Dvorák, Vivaldi and the rest -- but also Jimmy Buffett, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, Jean-Michel Jarre, Abba, Judy Collins, Roger Whittaker, Carol King, and Jim Croce -- all that she loved. I have said before, Jim Croce was her favorite artist, and his music was the sound of Saturday afternoons at our house. And when she finally moved on, when she finally fell asleep, this was what was playing -- a song she not only listed to, but loved to play and sing as well.

"Time In a Bottle," Jim Croce.


And now it is after one. I am going out for a walk under the stars, maybe to count satellites, maybe to howl like Coyote until I can't howl anymore -- not sure just yet. But I want to say it has been a pleasure and an honor to share music with all of you. So continue to do that -- share what you love, and try to love what is shared by others.
 
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Day 8: A song to fall asleep to

Bear with me -- the prompt fits.

We learn so much from our mothers. At my mother's knee, I learned to love books, and reading aloud. I learned to love the ocean, and its beach. I learned to love the stars, and counting satellites deep into the summer night. And music -- so much music. My mother had been a member of a nationally touring choir as well as an accomplished guitarist and pianist. So much of the music I love I learned from her album collection -- even later in my life, she expanded my horizons. And as an adult, the lessons I learned from her helped me find other music to love and pass on. I am my mother's son, or at least the good parts of me.

She passed away earlier this evening, right as the sun was setting. She died as she lived, with peace, dignity, and grace, surrounded by those she loved, and, of course, by music. After we decided to allow the river to flow to it's end, to stop fighting and allow her the modesty of comfort measures, I made her a playlist. Classical, of course -- Beatoven, Bach, Dvorák, Vivaldi and the rest -- but also Jimmy Buffett, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, Jean-Michel Jarre, Abba, Judy Collins, Roger Whittaker, Carol King, and Jim Croce -- all that she loved. I have said before, Jim Croce was her favorite artist, and his music was the sound of Saturday afternoons at our house. And when she finally moved on, when she finally fell asleep, this was what was playing -- a song she not only listed to, but loved to play and sing as well.

"Time In a Bottle," Jim Croce.


And now it is after one. I am going out for a walk under the stars, maybe to count satellites, maybe to howl like Coyote until I can't howl anymore -- not sure just yet. But I want to say it has been a pleasure and an honor to share music with all of you. So continue to do that -- share what you love, and try to love what is shared by others.
Wow… I’m sorry for the loss of what sounds like an amazing woman, mom and human being. 🫂🫂🫂

A beautifully written tribute, and of course a spot on song.

Love to you and her departed soul.

Keep on counting the satellite’s and stars. They will keep her memory with you always.

May she rest in peace.
-w
 
Day 8: A song to fall asleep to

Bear with me -- the prompt fits.

We learn so much from our mothers. At my mother's knee, I learned to love books, and reading aloud. I learned to love the ocean, and its beach. I learned to love the stars, and counting satellites deep into the summer night. And music -- so much music. My mother had been a member of a nationally touring choir as well as an accomplished guitarist and pianist. So much of the music I love I learned from her album collection -- even later in my life, she expanded my horizons. And as an adult, the lessons I learned from her helped me find other music to love and pass on. I am my mother's son, or at least the good parts of me.

She passed away earlier this evening, right as the sun was setting. She died as she lived, with peace, dignity, and grace, surrounded by those she loved, and, of course, by music. After we decided to allow the river to flow to it's end, to stop fighting and allow her the modesty of comfort measures, I made her a playlist. Classical, of course -- Beatoven, Bach, Dvorák, Vivaldi and the rest -- but also Jimmy Buffett, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, Jean-Michel Jarre, Abba, Judy Collins, Roger Whittaker, Carol King, and Jim Croce -- all that she loved. I have said before, Jim Croce was her favorite artist, and his music was the sound of Saturday afternoons at our house. And when she finally moved on, when she finally fell asleep, this was what was playing -- a song she not only listed to, but loved to play and sing as well.

"Time In a Bottle," Jim Croce.


And now it is after one. I am going out for a walk under the stars, maybe to count satellites, maybe to howl like Coyote until I can't howl anymore -- not sure just yet. But I want to say it has been a pleasure and an honor to share music with all of you. So continue to do that -- share what you love, and try to love what is shared by others.
Great tribute to what sounds like a full life to be celebrated. I'm sorry for your loss
 
Day 18: A psychedelic song

I love punk rock, but I also LOVE psychedelic music!

Old school psych, garage, freakbeat and space rock

Medium school: Paisley underground, post punk, shoegaze, stoner rock, trance, acid house

New school: Dream pop, Neopsych, mod-garage, Indie music even some Americana

Think I’ll go somewhere between medium and new school with this psych gem.

temples - Shelter Song
 
Day 8: A song to fall asleep to

Bear with me -- the prompt fits.

We learn so much from our mothers. At my mother's knee, I learned to love books, and reading aloud. I learned to love the ocean, and its beach. I learned to love the stars, and counting satellites deep into the summer night. And music -- so much music. My mother had been a member of a nationally touring choir as well as an accomplished guitarist and pianist. So much of the music I love I learned from her album collection -- even later in my life, she expanded my horizons. And as an adult, the lessons I learned from her helped me find other music to love and pass on. I am my mother's son, or at least the good parts of me.

She passed away earlier this evening, right as the sun was setting. She died as she lived, with peace, dignity, and grace, surrounded by those she loved, and, of course, by music. After we decided to allow the river to flow to it's end, to stop fighting and allow her the modesty of comfort measures, I made her a playlist. Classical, of course -- Beatoven, Bach, Dvorák, Vivaldi and the rest -- but also Jimmy Buffett, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, Jean-Michel Jarre, Abba, Judy Collins, Roger Whittaker, Carol King, and Jim Croce -- all that she loved. I have said before, Jim Croce was her favorite artist, and his music was the sound of Saturday afternoons at our house. And when she finally moved on, when she finally fell asleep, this was what was playing -- a song she not only listed to, but loved to play and sing as well.

"Time In a Bottle," Jim Croce.


And now it is after one. I am going out for a walk under the stars, maybe to count satellites, maybe to howl like Coyote until I can't howl anymore -- not sure just yet. But I want to say it has been a pleasure and an honor to share music with all of you. So continue to do that -- share what you love, and try to love what is shared by others.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing this beautiful tribute to your mom with us. Sending love and light your way 🤍
 
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