Garage Sales are Like Organ Donations

Garage sales are like organ donations. I am thoroughly enjoying a CD I bought from a dead man’s estate sale. A man who lived across the street from Mom for years and from me for two whom I never had the pleasure of meeting, but shared a kindred like of music. Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Jackson Brown, The Byrds, and even Frank Zappa (don’t you eat that yellow snow). And now many many years after my dad’s death, I realize why he liked Bob Dylan. “Close your eyes, close the door, you don’t have to worry anymore, I’ll be your baby tonight.” A very nice two step beat I can picture him dancing to. Lay Lady Lay, Lay Across my Big Brass Bed... why wait any longer for the one you love when he is standing in front of you.... Letters expose his love for a Lady that was not in love with him...

I’m proud to be from my mom and dad. My dad was a short man. A dreamer. A lover. A writer. My mom was a poet. A perfectionist. A sociologist. A very good analyst of the human spirit who could not “get through” at the end.

It wasn’t so long ago that this room I am currently in was my teenage bedroom. The music currently playing is bringing life back into it. A new organ giving life to a dead memory. Is a memory something we have or something we’ve lost? My children are adults now. When I was living in this room as a teenager, I was deciding whether or not to date their father. As crazy as their father is/was, I am glad I married him and gave birth to my two wonderful boys. They inherited his good points, boldness and work ethic.

If I had wings and I could fly, I know where I would go, but right now I will sit here on this bank of sand and watch the river flow.... Bob Dylan

Happy sounds of children’s voices are outside my window. Me. Yesterday. Don’t think twice, it’s alright.