Sunday
In honor of a quirky holiday that honors an unusual patriot (and expatriate, for that matter), here are the lyrics to my personal favorite song in the whole Sufjan Stevens oeuvre, which has nothing to do with Poland or the U.S. Revolutionary War:
Casimir Pulaski Day
Golden rod and the 4-H stone
The things I brought you
When I found out you had cancer of the bone
Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car to the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry
In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading
Oh the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth
Tuesday night at the Bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens
I remember at Michael’s house
In the living room when you kissed my neck
And I almost touched your blouse
In the morning at the top of the stairs
When your father found out what we did that night
And you told me you were scared
Oh the glory when you ran outside
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied
And you told me not to follow you
Sunday night when I cleaned the house
I find the card where you wrote it out
With the pictures of your mother
On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom
In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window
In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing
Oh the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window
Oh the glory when he took our place
But he took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes
[Sadly, reading the lyrics alone doesn't do this justice. The genius of this song, to me, is in the rhythm and tone of the repeated phrase by the horns, which picks up beautifully on a hint left by the lyrics. In case you haven't heard it or don't know what I mean, I'll leave it at that and let you listen for yourself sometime. Along the same lines, I recommend Melvin Dixon's poem "Heartbeats" from about 20 years ago...which as it turns out, has apparently been made into a song.]
Monday
Dar (out of the blue, from the back seat, during the drive home from Lake Geneva): “Mom, will you sing The Star-Spangled Banner? Because I don’t really know the words very well yet.”
[I don't think she was making any conscious reference to the Revolutionary War theme of her day off. She does seem to dig her teacher's habit of encouraging the learning of traditional patriotic songs, and it's not unlike her to want to do some of her regular school activities on non-school days. It should be noted, though, that American history seems to be her favorite subject of late. Stay tuned for QOTDs from our upcoming Spring Break histravaganza.]
