A Song of Farewell for Gene Nations (1928-2007)
He held out through Thanksgiving and Christmas and breathed his last on New Year’s Eve, never to see 2008. And all I could do through all of it was to sing. I’m like that little kid on About a Boy, who starts singing for no apparent reason. It’s a bizarre tic that often gets on people’s nerves, but I couldn’t stop.
At some point, though, it turned into something that soothed people’s nerves, that brought joy into gloomy hospital rooms. So I kept on singing. I started taking requests for things like, “Here Comes Santa Claus,” “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” and other happy holiday songs. I sang a duet of “The Christmas Song” with a hospital tech who’d come to check Gene’s blood pressure.
And when he had to go back to ICU and his lungs collapsed and we knew it was the end, I sang at my mother-in-law’s request. Despite the sedation, we knew he could hear us. Christmas was over, and it was New Year’s Eve, and I remembered how Gene liked bawdy songs, so I sang the ones my folks had taught me, “Roll me over, in the clover, roll me over, lay me down and do it again,” and “The Princess Pupule has plenty papaya, she loves to give it away.”
He took his last breath while everyone around his bed sang, “You Are My Sunshine,” the same song his granddaughter Caroline had sung to him the day after Christmas, bringing a smile to his lips.
The songs go through my head as I lay down to sleep and they’re still there when I wake in the morning, the Irish songs he loved so much, “Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling… and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.”
Farewell, Gene. I sing for you still, though my voice is cracked with sickness and sorrow.
April 25th, 2008 at 8:21 pm
Certain songs bring back vivid memories (for instance, do you know that to this day, whenever I hear “Jamie’s Crying” by Van Halen I think of us being on East Beach? That must have been over 20 years ago)! Some of those memories are so sweet; some are bittersweet.
I love music; so does Paul. Although we both listen to almost everything, if I had my druthers I’d scan right past the slow country ballad….which are what Paul is trying to find.
He says that listening to that kind of music - those (to me) depressing, sad, tear-in-your-beer songs is “like taking a drug….eases your pain, Darlin’.” My “drug” of choice would be those up-beat, funky, just plain POSITIVE songs - that’s my musical anesthetic. Regardless of which poison you pick, music is a celebration of life…..and love….and sometime mourns loss.
I’m glad you were there to help ease the pain; to be his drug. His music, coming from you, celebrated his life, and mourned his loss. Let it serve as a reminder - both sweet, and bittersweet.
April 25th, 2008 at 9:37 pm
My favorite movie to watch when I want a good cry is The Color Purple. It’s the music that does it to me, and it is like a drug. “Maybe God is trying to tell you something…” Gospel and the blues, cut to my soul.
Another thing I like to hear when I’m sad is the sound of Patty Griffin’s voice, sad to its core, telling real stories of real people and their woes.
But it’s not the right drug, no. It’s OK to wallow, to embrace the funk and swim in it like the sea, but only for a brief moment. They’ll never bring me back up, like trying to drown your sorrows in drink, you don’t always realize how vehemently they float.
June 21st, 2009 at 8:28 am
[…] before the plane ever landed. Don’t ever leave things unsaid, he said. I keep thinking of Gene and songs sung at […]