Red River: Music
Mildred's Garden
(Red River)
June 26, 2004
Lyrics and music by Michelle Anderson; all instrumentation by Dave Anderson
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I've had better years than 2001.
In 2001, first I lost my dad. Then, exactly three months (to the day) later, I lost my mom. Then, later in the year, I lost my best friend from childhood.
This is why I don't choose to revisit 2001 much.
But, with the wisdom of age, one realizes that one cannot just sweep the hard times under the rug.
Because they always come back to bite you.
In 2001, I wrote my very first song. That was in December.
I'd never written, or even thought about writing, a song.
Ever.
But one night, in December, I sat down with my guitar, and the words came tumbling out.
That was, "To Talk To You Today", about my best friend, Alice.
I've written about The Story Behind The Song, in reference to, "To Talk To You Today", in a previous post. But I just wanted to put things in context here.
You see, once I realized that I actually could write a song, I naturally wanted to pay tribute to my mom and dad.
In hindsight, I think I succeeded with the song I wrote for my mom. (My dad's song needs work - much work).
So, Mildred's Garden was born.
To be honest, I didn't always have the best relationship with my mom. In fact, truth be told, we locked horns more than we got along.
By "locked horns", what I mean is, she criticized me, I slammed the door. We didn't speak. I wasn't a confrontational person, so I just ingested the criticism, brooded over it in the privacy of my room, and never spoke about it to her in any honest way.
But, that's maybe what mothers and daughters do. I don't know. I had sons. That's different.
So, when I set out to write a song to pay tribute to her, I flashed back to my early years, and, imaginationist that I am, I tried to embody her emotions. Not that I knew what she was thinking or what she was feeling, but I tried to settle myself into her shoes.
My mother was a very private person. She only let you see what she wanted you to see. (hmmm......sounds kind of familiar.)
The sad part about that is, I think she would have been a really interesting person to get to know. If she had allowed that.
So, I wrote the song, "Mildred's Garden", from what I saw, what I experienced, and from my projection of her dreams and aspirations as a mother in the '50's.
It struck me recently that we haven't done any new music in quite awhile, but, I wondered, what's so bad about the old stuff? Are we just going to toss it aside, like it doesn't matter?
Maybe there's some heart in the old stuff. In fact, I know there is.
So, here's a tribute to my mom. For all the disagreements, for all the misunderstandings, for all the times that she said, "You're just like your dad", I think I'm more like her than I or she ever cared to admit.
We're offering this song as a free download. Because memories of your mom shouldn't cost you anything.
I COULD SAY I DIDN’T KNOW HER
BUT MY HIDDEN HEART TELLS ME
MEM’RIES HAVE A WAY OF STEPPIN’
INTO PLAIN REALITY
AND I FIND MYSELF TRANSPORTED
TO A WORLD THAT I FORGOT
WHERE A FIERCE LOVE GAVE ME SHELTER
BUT LET ME TAKE THAT SINGLE WALK.
MILDRED’S GARDEN BLOOMED
WITH SWEET PEAS AND CORAL BELLS
GAZING OUT HER KITCHEN WINDOW
INTO DREAMS SHE WOULDN’T TELL
WINGS WILL FLY WHEN SUNSET BECKONS
MANY BLOSSOMS STILL TO TEND
MILDRED’S GARDEN WASHED IN SUNLIGHT
YIELDED SHOOTS THAT NEVER BEND
PEONIES AND BLACK-EYED SUSANS
AND A RED-HAIRED BABY GIRL
SNIFFING EACH NEW PLANT WITH WONDER
AS A DREAM WORLD CAME UNFURLED
MILDRED SMILED WITH HARD-EARNED WISDOM
KNOWIN’ LIFE WENT ON FROM HERE
AND A GARDEN BUILT ON GOOD SOIL
WOULD GROW THROUGHOUT THE YEARS
MILDRED’S GARDEN BLOOMED
WITH SWEET PEAS AND CORAL BELLS
GAZING OUT HER KITCHEN WINDOW
INTO DREAMS SHE WOULDN’T TELL
WINGS WILL FLY WHEN SUNSET BECKONS
MANY BLOSSOMS STILL TO TEND
MILDRED’S GARDEN WASHED IN SUNLIGHT
YIELDED SHOOTS THAT NEVER BEND
AS THE FLOWERS MULTIPLIED
WITH NEW COLORS AND BRIGHT HUES
THEIR FACES TOWARD THE SUN
THEY DRANK IN LIFE’S BESTOWING FOOD
MILDRED’S PRIDE WAS OVERFLOWING
AS HER HARD WORK SHE SURVEYED
SHE SAID MY JOB NOW IS OVER
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL BOUQUET
© Michelle Anderson 2004