Our June Tunesday theme is *a duh de duh duhhh* pure unadulterated happy songs.
What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade.
– Gertrude Jekyll
For this Tunesday, I’m channeling the beloved pulse of Casey Kasem’s “American Top 40” and sending out my very own, upbeat long-distance dedication.
Katherine from West Virginia writes:
Back when I had a boyfriend, back when my sisters and I experienced a year of normalcy in our childhood, and back when I wore dresses and shopped at malls and danced to Bette Midler as I perfected the blade (refer to sixth grade photos of me, specifically, zoom in on the hair) in the mirror before a school dance—my youngest sister (at the time), J, and I used to obsessively play the Some People’s Lives cassette on our bedroom stereo.
It’s possible that I forced that album on everyone. I loved it then and still think it’s a great album. And my sister ended up falling in love with this music as well.
I fondly recall lots of silly stories from that episode of back when. It was a good time—a time when I didn’t have to worry about meals for myself or about the safety of my siblings, a time when we were allowed to behave as kids, because, well, we were kids.
I’m sure J remembers this time too. I bet she remembers when I made her kiss her pillow to prove that she wasn’t wearing lipstick, because for the first time in our lives we had rules and we learned very quickly that one of those rules was that makeup was for adults. Of course, I was right, she had definitely sneaked into the bathroom and put on me-maw’s lipstick. What I didn’t realize was that my action would serve a round of double trouble for my sister—
- For wearing lipstick, which was not allowed.
- For staining her pillowcase with a hard to remove lipstick lip print.
I can’t recall the repercussions at present, but she did forgive me—because that’s what sisters do.
And we laugh when we recollect that story. It’s a story that bonds us.
I made a lot of dumb mistakes as a kid. We all do. And yet, my sister maintains to this day that I took care of her.
J grew up. We both did. And as most folks do, we somehow managed to survive the traumas of childhood.
Now, J’s a mom—a loving, compassionate, and extraordinary one. Her daughter is her entire world, which is just as it should be. And I hope J always laughs with her daughter, and that she makes many mistakes and memories with her, and that she will one day pass our cheer song on to her.
Even though there are a few miles of distance between us today and perhaps more miles than that exist in our future, I know that there is no amount of space that could ever disrupt our connection. The same will be true for J and her daughter.
To mothers, daughters, sisters, and girlfriends—and to my dear sister, J, “the wind beneath my wings” (because it was always you who took care of me), may this happy song remind us that there are many more fun rounds to go.
Casey, could you please play Bette Midler’s “One More Round”?