My Father's Hymns.

I imagine I sang to my children here and there, never as a routine or with consistency. I am sure at times I meant to make this more of a "thing", but like so many other good intentions we have as mothers, sleep and bottles and diapers and doorknob safety latches simply trumped so many of my good intentions.

But my dad sings.

I don't remember him singing to me a lot as a child, I am sure simply because my childhood was complicated to say the very least. But I know as I got older, when I was sick or struggling and he was there he sang or hummed quietly. He has this uncanny ability to create a completely non awkward silence in the face of despair, the sort of silence that allows you to just exist in it, while at the same time being reassuring without ever actually saying anything.

I know there have been terrible moments that he was present for, and the most memorable of all his responses have been him sitting over me, running his fingers through my hair and humming some melodic ancient hymn.

Or sometimes "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", because he loves the story of friendship and hope and perseverance found in The Wizard of Oz.

I know when my babies where actual babies and he had the opportunity to rock and sing with them, he did. I wish there had more opportunity for that, because his peace at times, is contagious. I wish every time I struggled or hurt or felt alone that I could find myself again, rested against his shoulder with the quiet vibrations of song lulling me away.