Mairi Champbell - Auld lang Syne- I recommend searching this on You Tube, on another tab and listening to it, while reading the rest of my blog. This is how I wrote, while listening to the tune. I'd like you to share the pleasant experience.
The 2nd of August.
I dedicate my writings today to Liam Clancy, Luke Kelly and Jim Leonard.
Men of a different era. Of more simple times. When dances were popular, times were tough, craic was ninety and life was romantic.
Cobble stones held up these men's feet.
The Band Played Waltzing Matilda.
I can feel already the heavy winter sadness that comes to me when summer begins to finish up. My grey woolly cardigan comes out and wraps its safe sleeves around me. Songs slow down on the radio. Christmas fm starts up and words about family and loved ones are top of 'What Christmas is all about' conversations.
I don't imagine the families of the great men I have dedicated this note to, find as time goes by it gets easier to live without them. Time is not a healer. People make conscious decisions to heal themselves. There's no such thing as time.
As Jim Leonard would say;
'If time never began and time will never end, how can it exist?It simply can't.'
Each day it's as hard as the one before when you cannot see or talk with or hold the person you love. It doesn't get easier. If anything it gets a little sadder and more difficult.
Liam and Luke, two talented musicians with passion in their voices.
Jim, a whistler, a passionate man, talented dancer, a creator, an artist.
Three charmers, fond of a good story, loved a song, whether it be to listen in or sing along. Three romantic men who spoke lovingly of where they were from and the people they loved.
Proud, wise, wit-filled men.
My Heart is ravisht with delight,
when thee I think upon;
All Grief and Sorrow takes the flight,
and speedily is gone;
The bright resemblance of thy Face,
so fills this, Heart of mine;
That Force nor Fate can me displease,
for Old long syne.
You have carved out a high standard for men who follow each of you.
You will never be replaced. You have boots too big to ever be filled.
It is only August yet I long for my grey woolen cardigan. It is there I will cry out and show just how much I miss you.
For Old Long syne.
