There wasn’t a lot of music in our house when I was growing up. We had a few records and a phonograph player, but I don’t remember them being played that much. The radio would be on most of the time, and that’s where we’d hear music. Sometimes, but not very often, there would be live singing. Almost exclusively by my Mother.
Every so often, Mom would get the urge to grab the guitar, and a bit more often, she’d play the organ. And she’d play and sing. I always thought she had a lovely, sweet, soft voice, but I don’t think she thought much of it. She’d always seem to sing shy, it seemed.
I’m so glad we have a few clips of her singing. I don’t listen to them very often. But when I do, they bring me right back to my childhood. And, yeah, they make me miss her a whole bunch, and I get sad that she’s not around. But sometimes it feels good to feel sad. Listening to these songs is a good sad. Much better than not having them at all.
As it’s Christmas Eve, here’s my Mom. Jean Emily (Hume) MacDonald, playing guitar and singing An Old Christmas Card.