When I was babysitting my little brother, who is now 51, we used to sing along and watch this on Sesame Street. Here is another version:
Sing, sing a song, may it make you happy the whole day long, Don’t worry if it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear, just sing, sing a song.
Verse, write a verse. It may grow into a poem so please do not be terse. Don’t worry if it’s not good enough for anyone else to read, just write, write a verse.
Write, perhaps a book, something you love, and takes years to produce. Your family may love you for it so what is there to lose, just write, win, but choose.
Above is for my husband and little brother (not so little anymore) as they’re in the same city right now and can’t seem to get together. I am so proud of them both. They are versions of my father, who I loved dearly and look forward to going with both to his grave site soon. My husband could not be there for his funeral.
Dad told me I could be anything, do anything from astronaut to president, before either was in the purview of women. He was adventurous, ambitious, demanding, encouraging and loving. Don’t worry. I’m not going to sing “who could ask for anything more!” After all, he had me lay 3,000 bricks in sand around our pool three years in a row because the winters were so harsh. That was the price for skinny-dipping in the dark.
I’ll never forget my mother getting enervated at me and saying “just wait ’til your father comes home!” When he arrived in time for dinner either she forgot or told on me. He’d take me aside and ask what I did and I’d say I called my little sister dumb. He fined me 10% of my weekly fifty cent allowance or usually just said it was OK, just cry a little. My little sister had called me an idiot first but I was sent in for punishment. I was older so had to set an example. Story of my life. And that’s the way it goes in Dee-Land.
Yes I had a French teacher who called it that or Dee-Ville. When we moved back to civilized society I had to start French all over again. Monsieur was not fluent in his chosen language, nor English. At least Dad had the wherewithal to allow me to speak conversational Italian (restaurant menus), permesso, grazie. I know three years of Francais and enough Greek to get me around the block including epharisto, parakalo, kalimera, kalispera, kalinichta. German, as well. Vielen dank. Dee
ps always ask in any language how to find the nearest restroom! In Greece it was a hole in a concrete cell. The lady in front of me in the long line was 80. I pressed my hands on the walls saying to myself if she can do it, I can do it. I can do it. Dee