In honor of Joshua Paul Micron Keebler
My dad was a short, round, jolly man who dearly loved to sing. We always claimed that he couldn't carry a tune, but that wasn't entirely accurate. He could carry his OWN tune, but he couldn't carry anybody else's. If anyone else was singing and he joined in (which of course he would), he would invariably sing a perfect fifth off from the rest. It gave family sing-alongs a kind of Gregorian flavor, but we were used to that.
Dad loved to sing--and his favorite audience was babies. Anybody's babies. Like me, he never met a baby he didn't fall instantly in love with, and neither of us could ever resist a flirtation with a small child, whether we knew them or not. But the song we all remember the best was the one he would always sing to babies who were offended! outraged! furious! and otherwise howling their heads off. And since one of my babies was earth-shakingly colicky, we heard it a lot. It went like this:
Aaaaand a bye oh bye and an oh bye oh and a bye oh bye oh bye,
aaaaand an oh bye oh and a bye oh bye and an oh bye oh bye oh!
Over and over and over. Five notes. If he'd managed to get his hands on a crying baby, he'd rock and pat and sing this at the top of his lungs. Without fail, every baby he did this too succumbed to sleep. I can't explain it. Was there some primitive part of their brains that actually found this soothing, or were they merely terrified into quietude lest he do something worse? We'll never know, but it worked. Before long, the baby would be in that snuffly sleep characteristic of the recently screaming.
Joshua, you'll never know what you've missed.
Aaaaand a bye oh bye and an oh bye oh and a bye oh bye oh bye,
aaaaand an oh bye oh and a bye oh bye and an oh bye oh bye oh!
Love, Spud
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Favorite verses:
- Prov 30:8-9: Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, `Who is the LORD?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.
- Rom 8:38-39: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
- Ps 119:68: You are good, and what you do is good; teach me your decrees.
- Eph 3:16-19: I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
About Me
- Spud
- I am: A wife, mother, employer and employee, rabid reader, eager Bible studier, cat-lover, toddler-amuser, round person, and have no particular theological category.
3 comments:
Josh's loss, and a deep one.
We are still trying to find the magic sequence of notes which will tap into his primitive brain and speak calm. Next time you are in the room with a screaming Josh, you get to be Mr. Steiner to him, and sing on your dad's behalf!
It might not have the same effect--I lack that booming baritone. But I can give it a try!
Sounds like your dad had the true touch of a baby lover. This is a moving description - thanks for sharing it! And I was jouncing Josh as I read it, and found myself trying to sing your dad's ditty (in a tuneless sort of way, since I don't know his tune). Maybe I'll find my own tune for these words. :-)
Can't wait for you to meet Josh, Sue. Babies can spot a baby-lover a mile away.
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