The List

I read an article today about Rosanne Cash's latest album - The List. When she was 18 her dad gave her a list of the 100 greatest country and western songs of all time. She just recorded an album with 13 of those songs.

I love the story of how the album came to be. To me, music is one of the greatest gifts we can give our children. Of course, few of us can aspire to the legacy of Johnny Cash, and in my case, I'm not even in tune enough to teach Bobby how to sing on key. But I can share my love of music.

My joy in music stems from childhood, so its only fair to pass on the tradition. I remember riding around in my dad's car listening to the local country station. We listened to Merle Haggard, Loretta Lynn, George Jones, all the greats. No wonder then that Bobby spent many of his early days - days when he was weak from congestive heart failure - listening to the classic country station on TV. He didn't care much for the other stations, but the old time country soothed him to sleep.

My mom listened to classical music, something I never understood. What was the point of music without words? But she gave me a different kind of musical gift. One year during Christmas mass she noticed that I wasn't singing and asked me why. "I can't sing," I told her.

"God gave you that voice and He deserves to hear it," she answered.

That was a revelation. God gave me the voice and I should use it? Not worry if my voice is flat? Excellent! I started singing. I sang off key. I sang the wrong words to songs. But I sang. All the time.

When my parents died, music was my solace. I spent the summer after my dad died playing "Fire and Rain" and "Far Side Banks of Jordan" over and over and over again. When my mom died I played "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan. Over and over and over again.

So, its no surprise that, upon learning that Bobby had a heart condition and most likely had Down Syndrome, I turned to music. Not knowing what else to do for my boy I sang this song into Valerie's tummy every night:

Twinkle Twinkle Little Prince
I loved you when God made you and I'll love you ever since
You're the apple of your mama's eye
You're the golden son, my sweetie pie
Twinkle Twinkle Little Prince
I loved you when God made you and I'll love you ever since.

I spent days making Bobby a mixed tape to welcome him into the world, and, not coincidentally, introduced him to the music his mamas love. These songs expressed the things I wanted Bobby to know before he came into the world - that he was perfect just as he was; that he was coming to mamas who had fierce love for him. I wanted him to know that he was welcome in this world; that while it wouldn't be easy to have Down Syndrome, in the end, God and his mamas would watch over him. And I wanted him see the beauty of his own little spirit - the light that was coming to change our world. We played it in the car in the months leading up to his birth and we play it to this day.

River Deep, Mountain High - Tina Turner
Sweet Home Chicago - Robert Johnson
Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing - Stevie Wonder
You Were Made For Me - Sam Cooke
Everyday People - Sly and the Family Stone
Loves me Like a Rock - Allison Krauss & the Cox Family
Shine - Dolly Parton
Keep Me God - Iris Dement
Something's Gotta Hold on Me - Etta James
Wonderful World, Beautiful People - Jimmy Cliff
Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On - Big Maybelle
To Zion - Lauryn Hill
Bridging the Gap - Nas
Respect Yourself - Staple Singers
Sweet Thing - Van Morrison
Everybody Wants to Be a Cat

I spent the first scary year of Bobby's life singing. During the first few weeks, when he was gassy and couldn't get relief, I wrote this song for him, singing and swaying until he fell asleep:

Bobby Bear
Bobby Bear
It's no fun with gas in there
Go ahead and make a fart
You can't finish until you start

I sang to him through many a medical procedure, trying to take his mind off the indignity of the echocardiogram wand or the probing stethoscope. I sang familiar tunes with new words, words to replace lyrics I didn't like, or words that simply were more appropriate for the occasion:

Rock a bye baby, in the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bow breaks, nothing happens at all
Because mama and mama will not let you fall

I sang because I didn't know what else to do. I just wanted him to know that mama was there, even when he was stuck full of needles and tubes, even when I couldn't hold him. And the beautiful, magical thing of it is, it worked. He and I have one very special song, a song I have sung to him thousands of times. It always soothes him.

You are my sunshine
My s-o-n shine
You make me happy
oh, every day
I hope you know dear
that I adore you
and in my heart
I hope you know you'll stay

The other night, dear
as I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you
in my arms
when I awoke, dear
my dream came true, dear
I'll hold you tight
try to protect you from all harm

Now, as he gets bigger and stronger, Bobby shows us that his love for music rivals my own. He plays the drums; he shakes the maracas; he shakes his shakers; he rings bells. He and I take a music class once a week. Each night when I pick him up from daycare we listen to the class CD. Driving home I sing and he yells and giggles, singing along too. Neither one of us in tune and neither one of us cares. It's so rock and roll I can hardly stand it.