The Early Ears

One of the most painful experiences surrounding my mother's death was spending the night in my childhood home after the funeral. It was so silent, something it had rarely been when I was growing up.

Not long prior to Mom's passing, I was fortunate to have had my iPhone handy to capture her playing the piano and yodeling one final time. I love you, Mom. Thank you for teaching me to listen, and for filling my life with music!

Faded black and white photo of my mom, with handwritten note in the bottom margin: New Castle High School 1942, Ruth Thompson - Age 16

Lyrics

Lying here in this lonely bed tonight
The shadows are blurred by tears
And I wonder if you're somewhere
calling out my name
and I just cannot hear

And I remember as I child
lying in this same bed
wrapped in it's warmth and security
I would listen to the sounds and songs
of the night
singing its lullaby to me

Those were the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
I heard my mother singing
So beautifully

And as I contemplate the sadness
in the silence here today
I am taken back to yesteryear
when all of us were laughing
as we frolicked in the yard
it's funny how the sounds of joy
can bring forth tears

And in the afternoon
the cottonwoods would sway
and their leaves would rattle
as the storm drew near
And the distant rolling thunder
was the prelude
to the sounds of pouring rain

And as the storm passed there would linger
drips of water from the rain-soaked trees
and the melancholy cooing of an evening dove
perched so sad and lonely on the wire

Those were the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
I heard my father playing
his old Gibson guitar

And you'd call us into dinner
And once inside
I would be eager just to tell you of the things I'd heard
like the laughter and the thunder and the rain
and you listen with excitement to each word

And we'd sit down at the table
and we'd hush
and listen to our father's prayer
he would thank the Lord for all the food that had been given us
and that you with loving kindness had prepared

Those were the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
I heard my mother singing
So beautifully

And cicadas would hold symphonies
on hot summer nights
accompanied by crickets and frogs
and the window fan would gently drone
and in the distance I could hear a barking dog

And from my bed I'd often strain to hear
your conversation, muffled and low
you and Dad would talk for hours
about what I guess I'll never know

Those were the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
I could hear my father playing
that old Gibson guitar

Those were the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
the early ears of my life
I heard my mother singing
So beautifully

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