Tuesday, August 6, 2019

27. Love sends a little gift of roses

Today is my mother's birthday. She passed away last April, a few months and a week shy of her 98th birthday—a very long run indeed.

Mom had a thing for roses. Her china pattern had a pink rose in the center, she loved the scent of rose soap and powder, and a number of her (many!) beautiful handkerchiefs were embroidered with roses. Although it wasn't her absolutely favorite song, she even played the song "Love Sends a Little Gift of Roses" on the piano. The song is corny,* but lovely.

Links to the sheet music, published in 1919 give the lyrics. A recording on the Brunswick label (Brunswick to nod to Dad, from Brunswick, Maine) is a faster, scratchier and charming foxtrot. Possibly, one version Mom would have known well is the version by Tommy Dorsey and his Orchestra, recorded in 1941, the year before Mom and Dad married.

I was an abject failure at piano lessons, but I'm forever grateful for—among other things—Mom's not-so-little gift of music.

(For August 6)

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