The song is Auld Lang Syne. According to Wikipedia, "The song's .... title may be translated into English literally as 'old long since', or ... 'long ago', or 'days gone by'." Yet, two particular uses of the song have played an integral part in my life, leaving it's somewhat bittersweet impression on my psyche.
My favorite film, It’s a Wonderful Life, represents the first . Sung at the movie's end by Jimmy Stewart's George Bailey, surrounding family and friends, the twinkle of a Christmas bell, and the realization that "No man is a failure, who has friends".
The second, is the Dan Fogelberg song, "Same Auld Lang Syne", which tells the story of an unexpected Christmas Eve reunion with an old childhood flame.
Fogelberg's influence on me was significant, to say the least. The album, The Innocent Age, debuted when I was at the tender age of 15. Full of pubescent angst and melancholy, I played the vinyl disc over and over, imagining myself as a mature adult reconnecting with what would be a love long lost. An unrequited 'first love' and girlish drama kindled the fires that were fueled to inferno by Fogelberg's lilting melodies and clean vocals.
Sunday, December 16th, Dan Fogelberg succumbed to prostate cancer. He was only 56, 15 years older than myself. I am, ironically, at the age that I imagined myself to be that 'mature adult' reflecting on lost love.
I hadn't known he was ill. I had only recently added his 'best of' CD to my i-pod. I cleaned the house to his music all day Sunday, and played Auld Lang Syne 3-4 times in a row, soaking up the memories, and releasing past demons. His music was always a catharsis.
Unaware of his passing, I posted one of his lesser-known works on this blog on the night of his death. Was it just coincidence, or was something bubbling up from my past, trying to lesson the blow of the news when it did come Monday night?
The age of 15 was, without question, my most tumultuous teenage year. I had transferred from private to public school, knowing no one. I had braces, bad skin, and horrible hair. I fought constantly with my mother, even running away from home for 3 days. I got drunk for the first time. My friends were beautiful, smart and articulate. I was awkward, plain and picked upon. I even thought I was possessed, having seen an image of a demon in my own reflection. (Suppose I deserved a little picking-on.)
But scariest of all, I had a gift. My dreams were filled with things to come, things I would then see come to fruition. Sometimes the next day, sometimes not for weeks, but I always knew ahead of time that something I dreamt would actually happen. Uncertainty and self-loathing prevailed in my young mind, and I felt strange, not gifted. But I had Dan Fogelberg. I cried at the end of "Same Auld Lang Syne" every single time I played it. Maturity and the hands of time left those days far behind me, with only an occasional lump in my throat as a reminder.
Monday night, that all changed. I was no longer the confident, attractive 41 year old woman I had become. I was 15 again. And again, I was reminded that I had a gift. Pushed back by years of rational thought, it forced itself through my hardened shell of adult logic. But it's brief return was only to foreshadow a loss. Perhaps deep down in my heart, I felt his passing; and my soul needed to hear those songs again. His songs. My songs. I was reminded of a time when anything was possible. A long time gone. An 'old long since'. Loss of the age of innocence.
"For just a moment I was back at school/And felt that old familiar pain" .
Although we had no snow that night, I turned the corner on my way back home, and indeed, it began to rain. Godspeed and fair seas.
Daniel Grayling Fogelberg.
8/13/1951 - 12/16/2007
Daniel Grayling Fogelberg.
8/13/1951 - 12/16/2007
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?
