you'll get along

i had wanted to write something to call attention to my 200th story on vocal. something to honor my time spent here practicing scribbles.

and then my grandmother-in-law began the process of active dying, and the only scribbles i could be bothered to put down were about her.

i say "grandmother-in-law" because that is the technical title for our connection. and while it offers important context to understand our kinship, it doesn't quite capture the nature of our relationship.

susan was my friend.

we gabbed like two little old ladies on a sunday afternoon. sipping our drinks (once gin, later hot chocolate and water) and dining on the finest assortment of candies the local grocer could supply.

as her language declined, and she became unable to carry on a conversation, i got into the habit of telling her the things that i love about her family. her children and her grandchildren, particularly the one she called "noodles." her sweet natalie. my partner and the person responsible for me meeting susan in the first place.

i would tell susan how dearly i love and care for natalie, and regale her with the stories where natalie reminded me of her. stories that i thought best demonstrated how much nat embodies her values. i told her how she had raised a strong line of "women" (nat is non-binary, but susan didn't remember that toward the end) that honored and loved her. i told her how proud i felt to be a part of her family and to be welcomed by her. how her daughter and her two grand"daughters" are the wonderfully principled and thoughtful people they are today because of her.

susan would look at me the whole time i talked, intently watching my lips move, carefully discerning each word and its meaning. then she would simply smile, nodding contentedly as her eyes gently and slowly closed.

during one of our many conversations while she was still verbal, politics came up. i tried to avoid it with her as much as possible. no need to stress her out, right? well, this time she asked me to tell her specifically what was going on in the country and in the world.

so i started at home.

"donald trump is the president of the united states."

"now did you really have to tell me that?" was her quick and flat reply.

we talked more about the compounding woes of the world, and the many efforts to change or heal them.

we talked about hope in dark times that springs forth from connection and community. how, if we rely on each other, we can get through any horror. that's when she said these wonderful words: "you'll get along."

i said, "that sounds like a beautiful song."

"perhaps you'll write it." she suggested.

"i don't really write music, but perhaps i will."

"you'll have to play it for me."

i put the title in my notes, but i never did write it, and it never came up again.

i've decided that i will now, despite truly not knowing what i'm doing, write it as best i can. so, without further ado. here is a rough draft for susan, and eventually, her family.

you'll get along.

while i wander off this road alone

away from the place i've always known,

i'll hold what you've meant to me,

you'll bring comfort no matter recollection.

long after your name and face have blurred,

even longer after my mind's obscured,

i'll feel that you love me,

i'll feel that we're friends,

i'll know you'll be with me until the end.

and when the time comes that i miss

our afternoons spent playing chess, just know the truth,

i was letting you win,

ever the mother, ever the protector,

i let you win.

when you sit while i sleep, drifting away, don't weep that i'm not there.

and when i finally leave this body

don't grieve me from pain.

grieve me from love.

when it comes from love's place,

grief can endure.

you'll want to forget,

but please fight that urge.

keep loving instead.

keep loving,

and you'll get along.

i'd like to record it and post at some point, so i'll be updating soon with a video and edits once i figure out the guitar part and put it all together.