I called my dad’s parents Ma and Pa
Grampy, Yaya and Pappoús, Nana and Papa, Savta and Sabb, Lola and Lolo, Maimeo and Daideo, Sobo and Sofu, Meemaw and Peepaw, Dedushka and Babushka, Nonna and Nonno, Oma and Opa, Babcia and Dziadzia, Abuela and
Abuelo, Baba and
Gigi)
I remember the quarters, nickels and dimes:
I remember their passing from this life to you:
I remember the places they left behind:
a recliner covered with sheep skin throws,
Bless all our grandparents, Son of Mary,
in your peace and your joy forever…
Amen.
Two songs this evening: the first, a happy thank you for the gift of grandparents; the second, a more reflective offering on growing old…
Thank You by Michael Land
If a video doesn’t appear below, click here!
Tonight’s song may take you to a tender, vulnerable place in your heart… There’s sadness in Brel’s music here – but we who hope in the Lord know that death is not the end, nor does it destroy the bonds love forges in our lives. Even in sorrow, we trust that the mercy of God will gather us all together again in the joy of his kingdom – so let us console one another with our faith in Jesus! (And perhaps this song will move us, to visit, to be in touch with grandparents or some of the older folks in our families and among our friends and neighbors…)
The Old Folks by Jacques Brel
If a video below does not appear, click here!
The old folks don’t
talk much
And they talk so slowly when they do
They are rich, they are poor, their illusions are gone
They share one heart for two
Their homes all smell of time, of old photographs
And an old-fashioned song
Though you may live in town, you live so far away
When you’ve lived too long
And have they laughed too much, do their dry voices crack
Talking of times gone by
Still always seems to cloud the eye
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, « Yes, » it says, « No »
It says, « I’ll wait for you »
The old folks dream no more
The books have gone to sleep, the piano’s out of tune
The little cat is dead and no more do they sing
On a Sunday afternoon
The old folks move no more, their world’s become too small
Their bodies feel like lead
They might look out the window or else sit in a chair
Or else they stay in bed
And if they still go
out, arm in arm, arm in arm
In the morning’s chill
It’s to have a good cry, to say their last good-bye
To one who’s older still
And then they go home to the old silver clock
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, « Yes, » it says, « No »
It says, « I’ll wait for you »
The old folks never die
They just lay down their heads and go to sleep one day
They hold each other’s hand like children in the dark
But one will get lost anyway
And the other will remain just sitting in that room
Which makes no sound
It doesn’t matter now, the song has died away
And echoes all around
You’ll see them when they walk through the sun-filled park
Where children run and play
It hurts too much to smile, it hurts too much but life goes on
For still another day
As they try to escape the old silver clock
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, « Yes, » it says, « No »
It says, « I’ll wait for you »
The old, old silver
clock that’s hanging on the wall
That waits for us
All
