>From Jan, [email protected] Singing the Last Song (From the Sunday Afternoon Rocking series) It was not a good deal different from other books of its type. Carefully pasted to its pages were newspaper clippings about graduation and plays, parties and engagements. There were play bills and senior cards and a Valentine's greeting. The school song was pasted to one page. And just as carefully pasted to its pages were things that make sense to no one but the teenager that saved them: a scrap of ribbon, a candy wrapper, a napkin, a scrap of tissue paper, and the penciled name "Roger" on a torn yellowing scrap of paper. The class officers were listed and one page was filled with the names of friends followed by the nickname their peers had attached to them: Lorene-Pet Neva-Dimples Ethel-Cricket Mary Alice-Flirt Roy-Animal….hmmm, wonder what earned him that nickname? No explanation is attached. The leaves of little book were filled with scrawled notes from friends: "Soon we will part. Please don't forget our good times, especially in the library." "Forget our quarrels but remember keeping speech in the dark and all our good times. I wish you much happiness in life." "We've been pals for five years, haven't we? Now we have to part but I hope to see you very often, but if I do not, I'll always remember you. Remember our last Sunday together!" "It is only a short time until we will have to part never to be together again as we are now." "Only four more years and we will be separated, but that must not end our friendship." "Just four days and it will all be told. I have known you for four years and I have considered you as a friend." "We will soon have to separate but I hope we will meet again in future life." Obviously it was the treasured momento of a teenager about to embark on the world. It might have been my daughter's senior yearbook of the late nineties. It might have been my own from the early 70's. It might have been my mother's of the early 1950's. It was none of those. It belonged to my aunt, and in 1928 she was a starry eyed hopeful young girl going out into the world with the well wishes of friends carefully toted in a book under her arm. And reading through the little book, looking through the cherished memorabilia that only youth would consider so important, reading the scraps of memories, it is easy to picture the lady I knew all of my life as "old" as the young girl my daughter was, and the young girl I was myself once. The book was seventy years older than my daughter's similar one, and there are no glossy colored photos or even black and white ones, but it was not so different. The personality of a young girl was stamped upon it. It was the memory book of a hopeful teenager sadly bidding goodbye to classmates, but with equal excitement looking forward to life. The class motto? Up to the door, over the threshold, and into the world. "May your school days not end with the close of this school but may you ever go forward." That classmate's wish came true. Her school days did not end, and she went ever forward learning for many years, building a career. Remember the good times we had in the year of 1926-27." I think she must have done that very thing. Tucked in her photograph albums were quite a number of yellowed photos crumbling about the edges, and the photos were of classmates. One memorable photo shows a gang of laughing young people piled on an ancient car. I had often wondered about that photo, but oddly, had never thought to ask. I think this entry she wrote in her yearbook must explain that photo: On Friday afternoon May 11, the Junior Class took us (seniors) on a picnic to C. After the picnic we went to E., had all kinds of car trouble but had a good time. "I wish you much happiness and success" How does one measure happiness and success? Aunt Helen appeared happy, and she certainly had two faithful loving husbands who tried to create a happy life for her. Success? She lived comfortably all of her life, if one wishes to call that success. To my knowledge she never wished for one material thing she did not have. She lived simply and seemed happy with that. She never had children, but she was loved by her nieces, and she was loved by her great nieces and nephews. She was part of a warm tightly-knit family. She had a career she enjoyed, a church she was a part of, and friends that remained devoted until her last day. She lived over ninety years, and most of that time she was healthy and well. Yes, I think her classmate's wish came true. "The link that binds us class mates Is unlinking chain by chain, And it will have wholly severed, Where we our last song shall sing" In February, I hired a sitter to stay with her through the day. The sitter told me one evening of the two of them spending much of the day singing old hymns together. I was pleased, and wondered how long it had been since she had sung a song, for she had been unable to get about for more than a year. My aunt did not live but a week after the sitter came. And not long ago, I realized that she had truly sung her last song in that week. Up to the door, over the threshold, and into the world. She was a starry eyed teenager once, anxiously closing the door on her yesterdays and looking forward to a long happy future. Not so different from my own youthful daughter, not so different from myself years later. All of her classmates' good wishes for her life came true, and she lived a long life, a happy life, a healthy life for the most part. And one day she sang her last song, and anxiously closed the door on her yesterdays, stepped up to the door, over the threshold and into another world. I think if I looked back at my own senior book, I would see that all of my classmates' good wishes for my life, though sometimes slow in evolving, eventually came true. And though I have no idea if I will live the long life she did, I have lived for much of it a happy one and a healthy one for the most part. Perhaps my goal should be to sing….sing as if it is my last song, for who knows at what time it might be? And then I can step up to the door with no regrets, over the threshold with no regrets, and into another world. And perhaps the paraphrased words of the classmate, coupled with the motto of the class of 1928 fairly well summarize what life is all about: Where we our last song shall sing, Let it be no different from that we have always sung, Sing joyfully as if it is the last song, Let it be every day upon the tongue, And always be ready to step Up to the door, over the threshold, and into the world. Copyright ©2002JanPhilpot ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. 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