When I think of it, I see myself at four or five years old, playing with my Barbie dolls in my bedroom. I see my mom, younger than I am now, with her big smile. Listening to the song now brings happy tears to my eyes.
I'm sure my children will feel the same pleasurable ache of joy and nostalgia 30 years from now when they hear the soothing sounds of Ludacris.
Listening to Bing Crosby got me thinking about how my stepmother often makes us watch White Christmas, even if it's not Christmas. This is my favorite part.
One year for my grandmother's birthday, my mom and her siblings and all the cousins gathered in Shreveport to celebrate. On that Sunday, we went to church at St. Mark's Cathedral. A new priest had just started and, as part of his first sermon, he told the congregants a little about himself and what he enjoyed. And then he burst into song and sang these lyrics:
Sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters.
There was some hysterical laughter in the pews that Sunday morning.
Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister.
And Lord help the sister who comes between me and my man.
Share your happy memories in the comments!
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