Are we having fun yet? .. And this is how you remind me
A song that reminds of a Friend who introduced me to Nickelback and this song when we were collaborating on an internet project (* - wow did we do all that) and we were having so much fun.
The other enduring memory of this song is the time of it's release - September 11, 2001. It (as well as Powderfinger Song which I will track down) will always remind of that day.
How You Remind Me Lyrics
Never made it as a wise man I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing Tired of living like a blind man I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me Of what I really am This is how you remind me Of what I really am
It's not like you to say sorry I was waiting on a different story This time I'm mistaken For handing you a heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong, I've been down Been to the bottom of every bottle These five words in my head Scream, "Are we having fun yet?"
Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no
It's not like you didn't know that I said I love you and I swear I still do And it must have been so bad? Cause living with me must have damn near killed you
And this is how you remind me Of what I really am This is how you remind me Of what I really am
It's not like you to say sorry I was waiting on a different story This time I'm mistaken For handing you a heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong, I've been down Been to the bottom of every bottle These five words in my head Scream, "Are we having fun yet?"
Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no
Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no Yeah, yeah, yeah No, no
Never made it as a wise man I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing And this is how you remind me This is how you remind me
This is how you remind me Of what I really am This is how you remind me Of what I really am
It's not like you to say sorry I was waiting on a different story This time I'm mistaken For handing you a heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong, I've been down Been to the bottom of every bottle These five words in my head Scream, "Are we having fun yet?"
Yeah, yeah Are we having fun yet? Yeah, yeah Are we having fun yet? Yeah, yeah Are we having fun yet? Yeah, yeah No, no
The warrior knows an old saying: 'If regrets could kill…'
And he knows that regrets can kill; they slowly eat away at the soul of someone who has done something wrong and they lead eventually to self-destruction.
The warrior does not want to die like that. When he acts perversely or maliciously - because he is a man of many faults - he is never too ashamed to ask forgiveness.
If possible, he does his best to repair the wrong he has done. If the injured party is dead, then he does some good turn to a stranger and offers up that task to the soul that he wounded.
A warrior of light has no regrets, because regrets can kill. He humbles himself and undoes the wrong he has done.
If we have some regrets (founded or unfounded) about something (and we all do at times), then this is not a bad way to think about things. (Note: promise to write something different and more positive next time :-)
When providing positive feedback (*) and praise (*), focus on reinforcing those things that a student has control (*) over. Their actions (*), behaviors (*), choices (*), strategies (*), approach (*), effort (*), thought process (*), and so on. Specific, concrete things they can act upon.
In the infinite game (*), though, something completely different is going on. In the infinite game, the point is to keep playing, not to win (*). In the infinite game, the journey (*) is all there is. And so, players in an infinite game never stop giving so they can take. [..]
You certainly know people who play this game, you may well have been touched (*) by them, inspired (*) by them and taught (*) by them. The wrong question to ask is, "but how do they win?" The right way to understand it is, "but is it worth playing?"
via The short game, the long game and the infinite game (*) by Seth Godin (*).
I see people like this in my club (*) and as is always the case, Seth is ever so right in his observations on life. And I know, by these experiences in my club (*), exactly what he means.
Timothy Francis Eldridge was born on Wednesday 4 December 1963 in Tamworth NSW. He became the third and youngest child of Thomas and Betty. He had an elder sister, Lynn, spelt with two n's not one as Tim persisted throughout his whole life). Lynn was two years older than Tim. Myself, Geoff being 3 years older was the eldest. His father was an electrical engineer with the Electricity Commision of NSW. The Regional Centre was based in Tamworth and from this office the electricity transmission system in northern NSW grew. The nature of his Father's work often required nights away from home. We all looked forward to Dad's return on Friday Night with a bag of mixed lollies for all.
Lynn and I found as oursleves at school and this gave Tim two years at home with Mum by himself. Mum tells me now that he spent this time playing with the kids across the road. Even at this early age Tim was making friends. I seem to recall also that Tim managed to get a 1/2 day of pre-school (a first in the family). I always felt that this small period with other new kids gave Tim a nice head start when he commenced his schooling at South Tamworth Primary. He was well adjusted for the rigours of school, made friends easily (he was always going to birthday parties) and was a natural at anything he put his mind to.
He started in the top class in Kindy and there he stayed each year through his primary school days (and subsequent educational endeavours). Tim was a also a natural athlete and started playing rugby league at he age of eight, moving quickly onto soccer and then finally hockey (all in one year .. maybe this was a sign of things to come). He played representative hockey for Tamworth at the state champships every June Long Weekend. I even recall him playing under 12 hockey at Lismore when he was only 9. He was a prodigy even then. He also represented the North Western NSW primary school team in Murwullumbah where his team came back as state champions. Another little publicised sporting achievement was middle distance running and I remember him running a low 2 minute 800 meters at the Tamworth Primary Schools Athletic Carnival. A record that was not broken for many years.
The year Tim finished his primary school saw the Eldridge family move from Tamworth to Wagga for Dad's work. This was a tough time for everyone but we all adapted to new environs and our new high school in Wagga called Kooringal High. It was a new school and much smaller than the high school Lynn and I left in Tamworth. Probably 1/4 the size in students and was so new that it did not even have a sixth form in our first year there. Tim as always fitted in very quickily and he found new friends almost instantly. Many of whom are here today.
By the time Tim reached Wagga he had found the game of golf and before long he was swinging a set of clubs out at the Wagga Country Club, across the lake from where we lived. Here he spent many hours fine tuning his tee shots, fairway shots, chips and putts (or spits as his young nephew would subsequently refer, many years later). Golf was to become a life long passion and this was something which always stayed with him. It was only his 94 year old grandfather who thought something was wrong four weeks ago when he percieved Tim had lost interest in his Golf.
Tim breezed through high school and obtained excellent grades with little effort. In his final year he was nominated as perfect (whooops I meant "a prefect") and was voted school vice captain by his peers. For his HSC he studied a couple of hours each night on the floor in front of the TV. To recover from this strenous study regime, he would spend the next day playing 36 holes of golf.
With his HSC behind him Tim entered the University of Sydney and worked his way towards a Civil Engineering degree over a four year period. The first two years of his course, Tim lived at Wesley College, a residential college on the grounds of Sydney University. Here, Tim, along with some of high school buddies quickily adapted to the demanding University life style. Days at the beach, missing lectures, drinking beer, etc. He found new friends quickily and again many are here today. The nucleaus of this group were quickily dubbed the "DAMAGE BOYS" because of the drinking reputation at College Victory Dinners, formals and other ramdon gatherings.
Mid way through his second year, Tim's father Thomas passed away suddenly at the early age of 47 after a sunday afternoon hockey match. It was my job to tell Tim the news that Sunday night. I now remember his numb response to my news. "Where has he gone?" he asked. His fathers death at such a young age for all of us was a defining moment in Tim's life (probably the most defining moment up until last Saturday). It was a difficult time for Tim and the Family. Initially he seemed to cope well, but the next year saw Tim arrive home to Wagga unannounced many times during the university terms. I guess the one lesson (or theory actually I would call it a LAW) Tim would give us today from all this would be to grieve properly, seek support from Family, Friends and professionals and to address the difficult issues these tramatic events have on the fragile human soul.
Anyway, back to Uni, Tim bravely persisted and graduated with honours at the end of 1985. His brief but eventful civil engineering career started with a small but prestigous Civil Engineering Consultating companycalled Wargon, Chapman and Partners. Mr Wargon, a famous Amercican civil engineer appeared to take Tim under his wing and Tim quickily found himself designing car parks, and tall buildings. As well as doing one-off type jobs such as a structural integrity report of the Channel 9 Transmitter Antenna at the Channel 9 Compound, and preliminary designs for the now Sydney Harbour Tunnel.
Tim quickily realised that Civil Engineering was not for him (however a recent rush of activity with home decks shows there was some latent interest in at least some things civil). On the fifth redesign for an Alan Bond tower on the old Waltons site across from the Sydney Town Hall, Tim decided to move on. This gave him the chance to travel for 3 months overseas which took him to many places in Europe, England, particularly London and even India (if I recall correctly).
London was a place to which Tim would return frequently over the rest of his life, the last being July/August last year. The drawcards to London were friends and another life passion I have not yet mentioned, English Football. His favourite team during his schools days was Queens Park Rangers. Though his interested waned when their goalie Phil Parkes defected to my team West Ham in 1977 for a then world record sum of 565,000 pounds. Subsequent years and more recently Tim has been an Arsenal supporter.
On his return in the late 80's Tim persued his ambition for a new career. In this pursuit he found himself in Canberra studying part-time for a degree in Information Systems at the then Canberra College of Advanced Education and working part-time for small scientific software consulting firms. One system I remember was a flight simiulator program driven by data from aircraft black-box recorders.
On graduation from the CCAE Tim started work at Customs and then Department of Veterans Affairs for a record three years. Towards the end of this stint in DVA, Tim bought his house in Griffith, just up from Marnucka. He lived in the house briefly before deciding that a six month stint in Los Angles working on a Telon Related Inventory system was the go. On his return he decided to work in Sydney and here he had stints at NRMA and Westpac. Weekends saw Tim travelling back to his home in Canberra to catch up with friends and to play golf amongst other things. This became too tiring and before long he was back in Canberra fulltime working at the Australian Tax Office and subsequently Customs. His crowning software achievement was an ATO case-actioning tool which I believed was to be a distillation of systems and processes from the many places he had worked.
More recently, Tim returned to DVA where he ventured into web-based systems using packages such as Websphere and Tomcat.
Wherever Tim worked, he took the roles on seriously. He appeared to very much love a process and a set of rules to capture and implement. He believed rules were meant not to be broken (contrary to the majority of the population) and I always thought that he was perfect fit for the ATO. [He had a great sense of what was right and doing it right].
Another constant in Tim's life were his friends and I will always remember his 40th birthday speech where he said the party was not to celebrate his 40th, but more importantly, a chance for his family and friends to get together.
There is so much more to be said. We all have our memories of Tim and I ask you for just one moment to reflect on the good times you had with him ... and to take this forward with you through the tough times ahead.
It is now time to say goodbye to a loving son, brother, grandson, nephew, uncle, friend and colleague. We now know that Tim struggled with a delibertating and destructive illness which he held undercover for many years. I ask you to take the time to consider the strength he showed under this enormous pressure and to admire him for how he lived a relatively normal and happy life, shared with friends and family.
In the end Tim ran out "Puff" as he said and found peace from his illness the only way he knew how. Please forgive him. He asked for this.
Tim, you asked me where Dad had gone. We know that you searched for him high and low. We also now know that you have found him. The search and struggle is complete and that you have found your peace.
You will always have a special place in our hearts and memories. We will miss you.
The Edge of Glory (*) - Lady Gaga (*) - Live on Howard Stern (youtube)
Lady Gaga tells Howard Stern the song is about:
knowing in your heart that you may never reach that glorious moment until you die so live life on the edge
Elsewhere she says:
The song's about your last moment on earth, the moment of truth; the edge of glory is that moment right before you leave the earth
The Edge Of Glory Lyrics
There ain't no reason you and me should be alone Tonight, yeah baby Tonight, yeah baby I got a reason that you're who should take me home tonight
I need a man that thinks it's right when it's so wrong Tonight, yeah baby Tonight, yeah baby Right on the limits where we know we both belong tonight
It's hard to feel the rush To push the dangerous I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you Where we can both fall over in love
I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment of truth Out on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge with you
Another shot before we kiss the other side Tonight, yeah baby Tonight, yeah baby I'm on the edge of something final we call life tonight Alright, alright Pull on your shades 'cause I'll be dancing in the flames Tonight, yeah baby Tonight, yeah baby It doesn't hurt 'cause everybody knows my name tonight Alright, alright
It's hard to feel the rush To push the dangerous I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you Where we can both fall over in love
I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment of truth Out on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge with you
I'm on the edge with you
I'm on the edge with you
I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment of truth Out on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge The edge I'm on the edge of glory And I'm hanging on a moment with you I'm on the edge with you
A beautiful version of this song, even with this low-resolution YouTube version.
Three years ago today this song was the one I chose to play as the first song as we left the Service for Jenny's Farewell. I will never forget the first few notes of this version of this song - each note is like a pin dropping and a kind of an awakening to the reality of Jenny's loss. I felt at the time, and even now, that Jenny has found her Island Home.
It's a long story how this song ended being played, but it seemed right at the time and it still does.
I remember a lot about this day and I seemed to be in control of everything even though everything was out of control. I could tell a few stories about what could have gone wrong but was avoided through a sense of calm and control I have rarely felt throughout my life.
I know everyone remembers the amazing Sunset as we left the Chapel and people still talk about it even today.
It was only at the end of the day when I finally arrived home that evening after the "Get Together" following the Funeral, that I broke down alone in the darkness of the room where I had written my talk for Jenny's Eulogy earlier that day.
It's been a long and hard road since then but I keep moving forward as Jenny would have I wanted.
Thinking of the leading three or four acoustic guitar notes of My Island Home, in the silence of the Chapel, at the end of Jenny's Funeral, always puts a tingle up my spine and is one of the defining memories of that day and my Life.
Today I remember, 7500 km away from where she rests ..
Jennifer Joy Petterson - Three Years On - Woronora (Sat 30 Jun 2012)
There are 2 kinds of light; natural and man made, and often we find ourselves in the presence of both but fail to consider the photographic possibilities that their dissonance presents.
[..] So what is it to be engaged fully in that one stroke?
After the fact it is difficult to isolate the experience of one stroke from the others. It is challenging to gain clarity on exactly one stroke because it happens in a flow of many more. [..] the dilemma is not just identifying the one, but ensuring it is pure and uncontaminated by the past one’s and future one’s.
The joy of performing the one stroke and immersing in it is challenged by the accumulated nature of the cyclic or repeated experiences. [..]
[W]hat is it to be fully engaged in one stroke[?] Knife-edge comes to mind. [..] the sense of being on a knife-edge is a great description. Less so from the perspective of balance or even match up, it has an essence that finds a cord within that is about effort, ease, maintenance and fatigue.
In fact to see it clearer I notice that the one, perfect one that I see is one of edgy contrast.
It is in a position of precarious, pointedness with a subtle oscillation between more than one element and more then one stroke including the past, present and future.
One stroke is so hard to describe, I know it when I feel it and some times I know it when I see it. Maybe the one is not perfect but we make it so because we like the idea of it being better than it really was.
The experience of rowing fascinates me because it has so many things it relates too. What I do know is that when I am engaged things change. The world looks and feels different and it gives me hope. Giving in to it, but not letting it get the better of you is critical. That may sound strange but there is something about being part of the boat, the movement, the other person, and the surroundings that makes so much sense of everything. [..]
One stroke then is like every other stroke and they in turn they are like the days of life we live. It is just an experience how I choose to judge it or them is my choice. Years ago I watch a video the Searle Brothers made about their 1992 Olympic Games success in the coxed pair. In the video Greg spoke of a simple activity they did which involved calling out better or worse as a measure for each stroke they rowed. The idea I guess was to have more, better strokes and as such you develop accountability and improvement.
Another Favourite Blog Post from Drew Ginn. A truly amazing description of rowing[/paddling] and as is usual with Drew's writings I can relate to in many ways.
I always find the strokes from the start to transition are the easiest to remember. Darren calls them the "glory strokes" and in many ways they set the boat up for the rest of the effort. Get it right and you are on the way. Get it wrong and you are on the back foot trying to recover. Can also remember some lift calls in various efforts over the years.
Love the description of 'Knife-Edge' and 'Edgy Contrast'. I often feel that when the effort is such that things seem to be edgy, that is where we need to be. Always wary of that that perfect feeling.
Each campaign has its moments - those moments that take you by surprise, capture your imagination, make you realise with crystal-like clarity why you are doing what you doing and, best of all, put a smile on your face.
Tonight I just had one of those moments for this Campaign, with all of us in a line doing our one-arm kettlebell exercises to the beat and rhythm of this song - Born this Way. Kettlebells will never be the same.
The Video is in production and on task for a northern summer release and World Premiere in Tampa Bay where the International Dragon Boat Community will come together to view it for the first time. Stay tuned ..
Carmen, Lisa, Karen, Tamara, Jo, Rachel, Frank and Gio (and all the others that have ventured to Concord on a Tuesday Night) you have made the fitness testing workouts so much fun. You encourage and inspire me to be better than I thought I ever could be. You make me realise how lucky I am to be involved in this experience we share on the Road to Tampa.
Thank You.
My mama told me when I was young We are all born superstars She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on In the glass of her boudoir
There's nothin' wrong with lovin' who you are She said, 'cause He made you perfect, babe So hold your head up, girl and you you'll go far Listen to me when I say
I'm beautiful in my way, 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way
Don't hide yourself in regret, Just love yourself and you're set I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way
Whether life's disabilities Left you outcast, bullied or teased Rejoice and love yourself today 'Cause baby, you were born this way
I'm on the right track, baby I was born to survive
I'm on the right track, baby I was born to be brave
Karen, Carmen and Lisa - Born this Way - Twist - Just warming up - Fitness2u / Concord (Tue 14 Jun 2011)
One of my team mates from Prague 2009 had this on his Notebook. Before we got off the Bus at the race site for the 200m races, he played this to the Team. I enjoyed it and it seemed to do the trick. Somehow we squirmed into 3rd place in the final for a completely unexpected Bronze. Thanks Rick. Just a memory from Prague 2009.
Rick Lambe and Gary Quartermain - Senior Open 200m Final Presentation - Racice/Prague - Fri 29 Aug 2009
Inch By Inch Speech by Al Pacino
I don't know what to say really. Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives all comes down to today. Either we heal as a team or we are going to crumble. Inch by inch play by play till we're finished. We are in hell right now, gentlemen believe me and we can stay here and get the sh*t kicked out of us or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb out of hell. One inch, at a time.
Now I can't do it for you. I'm too old. I look around and I see these young faces and I think I mean I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make. I uh.... I pissed away all my money believe it or not. I chased off anyone who has ever loved me. And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know when you get old in life things get taken from you. That's, that's part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out that life is just a game of inches. So is football. Because in either game life or football the margin for error is so small. I mean one half step too late or to early you don't quite make it. One half second too slow or too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They are in ever break of the game every minute, every second.
On this team, we fight for that inch On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us to pieces for that inch. We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch. Cause we know when we add up all those inches that's going to make the f*ing difference between WINNING and LOSING between LIVING and DYING.
I'll tell you this in any fight it is the guy who is willing to die who is going to win that inch. And I know if I am going to have any life anymore it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch because that is what LIVING is. The six inches in front of your face.
Now I can't make you do it. You gotta look at the guy next to you. Look into his eyes. Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. You are going to see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows when it comes down to it, you are gonna do the same thing for him.
That's a team, gentlemen and either we heal now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That's football guys. That's all it is. Now, whattaya gonna do?
Accept tiredness. Accept frustration. Accept joy. Accept the moments that make life, life. Accept grief and your need to mourn when someone close to you dies. Accept your desire for better things. And accept that the journey to what you're try to accomplish with your life is as important as what you do eventually accomplish with it. It's a chase and that's all it ever will be and there is nothing wrong with that.
In Welsh, the word is hiraeth. Deeper than homesickness, it translates roughly as an intense longing for place, a desire for home which goes far beyond the desire for family or recognisable rituals. It is the pain of physical dislocation, of being, quite simply, in the wrong landscape.
Icarus - Paste Up - Wilson Street / Newtown (Dec 2010)
This Paste-Up has been there for quite a while - it has virtually fallen apart. I have photographed it quite a few times over the last few months and there is another one in a small park off Little Eveleigh Street (see below). You can see the Green Bone Head I featured here recently (02 Dec 2010).
Each time I pass it, something has gone missing (i.e. various parts of her body) or there have been various additions via the caring use of coloured textas. She is now careful adorned with earrings and some more than necessary shoes.
I have had a lot fun watching and photographing this poster.
It has made me think about what may have inspired its creator to design this piece. For me, when I first saw it (it was the one in Little Eveleigh Street, which I pass it on the way to the gym), I instantly thought of Icarus of Greek Mythology fame. Icarus attempted to escape Crete using wings, made of feathers and wax, his craftsman father had made for him. Icarus did not heed his father's warnings to not fly too close to the sun or sea, and as a result of the wax melting from flying too close to the Sun, he plummetted to his death into the Icarian Sea.
For some reason the Poem and Painting have made me think a lot about what has happened over the last year and a half. Hard to explain but there is something there, particularly the painting where one can barely make out the legs of Icarus just after his impact with the water.
About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters; how well, they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For the miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating On a pond at the edge of the wood: They never forgot That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse Scratches its innocent behind on a tree. In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry, But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
When you offer only love to the world you can never go wrong. I am becoming an example of this. We all share the same function of forgiveness and healing, and for me photography is a channel to express that. Be well.
via Peace G. Just stopping by to show love, it's been a minute. I see you've been getting some good looks lately, [..] Keep building, you'll have books and exhibitions in no time. (*) by Khalik Allah (*).
Today I heard this song for the first time in at least 2 years. The above is a video and the lyrics are below.
It is swelting in Sydney as I write this, at the end of hot summers day and I am covered in sweat. Spent this lovely Saturday afternoon on Sydney Harbour paddling in an OC6 from Glebe to Middle Harbour and back. Very windy, very hot and tough conditions. Still a great session and it makes you realise how lucky we are to have this beautiful city, it's harbour, the experiences we make for ourselves and the friendships we have with each other.
Pacific Dragons OC6 Mixed Crew - Paul, Jenny, Geoff, Marie, Liz, and Leslie - Ettalong / Central Coast - Jan 2007 (picasa)
Anwyay, on the way back to Alexandria from the session, in Wilson Street / Newtown [Note: 1], I had my radio on and heard this song.
Instantly, I became quite emotional (actually started crying uncontrollably - yes I'll admit it) and had to pull over. It was the song I had been trying to find for the last 19 months, since Jenny left us. I did not know it's title or any of the lyrics. All I knew was the tune. As a result, this made it difficult to track down. Apart from the tune, I also felt it was a Matchbox Twenty song.
Jenny had talked about it on it's release, when someone in her Cancer Support Group played the song at one the weekly Tuesday meetings. It seemed to mean a lot to Jenny and all her colleagues at the Group.
I had tried to find the song many times since Jenny's passing, and I now know I was looking in the wrong place, as it is Rob Thomas song, not a Matchbox Twenty song (I had even bought a few Matchbox Twenty CD's to try and find the song, obviously to no avail).
While listening to the song in the car this afternoon, all I tried to do was remember (my memory is not that flash) a line from the chorus so that I could search for it as soon as I got back to Alexandria. The line I remembered was:
A quick search found the above video and I then realised the song was from a Disney Animation Movie Meet The Robinsons, which I know little about (I am sure it is very good - actually have half a feeling that Jenny and Jo may have sneaked it in one Tuesday afternoon at the Movies. Will check with Jo). So I have no idea of the meaning of the song in the context of the Movie. Though with every song I think we are allowed to bring our own experiences and interpretations to it, even if we mishear the lyrics (I am reassured that this is OK :-).
Over the years, when Jenny was with us, I would often force myself to stay awake at night, so that I could hear her breathing (we were both good sleepers and it was often a race to see who would nod off first). The sound of her breath, and the silhouette of the rise and fall of the sheets covering her chest, gave me some reassurance. I could not comprehend that one day the cancer might extingusish the breath of this amazing person (where do I start to explain) and take this beautiful woman from us.
I think of those nights and the small hours where I would lay awake watching and listening to her breath - I would often tell Jenny that it was like music to my ears.
Anyway, I will leave it that. I will buy the CD and put the song on my iPhone. I need to listen to it some more and try to make the connection to the song that Jenny and her friends at the Sutherland Shire Cancer Support Group made to it. I suspect for me it might mean something completely different to Jenny as I can already see some things that I have felt since Jenny left us.
A bit of ramble but it is nice to capture these fragments of my memory here.
Needless to say, very excited to have found this song
Maybe the The hardest part is over?
I know in writing this: These small hours - Still remain
As we said to each other every night (and I still do) as we lay in bed before nodding off to sleep:
Good Night, Sweet Dreams, God Bless, Love You.
With love and fond memories .. Geoff
[Note 1]: I love Wilson Street ( Newtown) - so many little things have happened there recently and over the years (at least in my own mind). Maybe these are some of These little wonders the song refers. I know these little things have helped me a lot over the last 19 months as I move through the grieving process [see Quote: Half a Life - NYT Book Review (12 Sep 2010) (17 Oct 2010) - in some ways that post was a real turning point for me when I look back at it now].
Let it go Let it roll right off your shoulder Don't you know The hardest part is over Let it in Let your clarity define you In the end We will only just remember how it feels
Our lives are made In these small hours These little wonders These twists and turns of fate Time falls away, But these small hours These small hours Still remain
Let it slide Let your troubles fall behind you Let it shine, Till you feel it all around you And I don't mind If it's me you need to turn to We'll get by It's the heart that really matters in the end
Our lives are made In these small hours These little wonders These twists and turns of fate Time falls away But these small hours These small hours Still remain
All of my regret Will wash away somehow But I cannot forget the way I feel right now
In these small hours These little wonders These twists and turns of fate Yeah, these twisted turns of fate Time falls away Yeah, but these small hours, These small hours Still remain
Yeah, oh they still remain These little wonders All these twists and turns of fate Time falls away But these small hours These little wonders Still remain
