Songs my Father Sang

One of my most treasured memories of my father was when he would sing to us.

His serenades were not a constant, but occurred spontaneously, generally while he was driving. The destinations of those day trips I cannot recall. What I do remember is the feelings his singing evoked; safety, comfort, simple happiness, like stepping out your front door after a particularly harsh winter to the first embrace of springtime.

And when my father sang, the world could do no wrong.

His repertoire was vast and varied and his choice of song could fluctuate depending on his mood in that particular moment of time. Though not a professional singer, he could hold a tune quite nicely. His voice, deep and strong, betrayed just a hint of a Scottish accent, and always sounded just a wee bit higher in pitch when he sang of his beloved homeland.

His favorite tune undoubtedly, was “Loch Lomond,” a traditional Scottish folk song.

“By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.”

And my father, a poet at heart, would never fail to share the meaning of those melancholy lyrics involving two Scottish prisoners of war, one to be released and the other to be hung. The high road represented the normal road of life and the low road represented the road that the soldier sentenced to death would take, his soul returning to his homeland in the highlands.

“You’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road
But I’ll be in Scotland afore ye
Where me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond”

On some days my father quoted strange, yet interestingly captive poems I recall to this day:

‘Who killed Cock Robin? I said the sparrow, with my bow and arrow. I killed Cock Robin.’ That one never quite sat well with me as a child or for that matter, an adult, as I could never bear the thought of the robin being speared.

When in a whimsical mood, my father might sing this nonsensical children’s song of which I still don’t know the meaning, yet it never failed to lighten the mood if someone was having a bad day:

“Oh! Mairzy doats and dozy doats
And liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you?
A kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you?

And how can I forget the many romantic songs my father loved? I recall one tune performed by Perry Como which my father sang often…”I wonder whose kissing her now?” Though as a child, I often pondered from the back seat of our station wagon, why my father was singing about kissing another woman aside from my mother…

Another selection my father sang throughout his life, was from the classic movie, “My Fair Lady.” An uplifting song I too found so lovely, that I chose it for the dance with my father on my wedding day:

“On the Street Where You Live”

“I have often walked down this street before
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before
All at once am I, several stories high
Knowing I’m on the street where you live”

When his three daughters prepared to leave home for our first year away at college, my father had a ritual, this one too in song. He never failed to serenade us with this Scottish favorite, delivered in his native tongue.

“We’re no awa’tae bide awa”

Whose translation, goes something like this: “Oh, we are not away to stay away, We are not away to leave you. We are not away to stay away. We will always come back and see you.” And as our family gathered around the dining room table the night before the departure, my father would raise a glass and in that high pitched tone, sing these words earnestly in tribute. My mother, understandably sad a daughter was leaving home, did not share his enthusiasm and often left the table in tears but not before casting a few choice words at my father. But he never wavered, delivering the lyrics without a hint of sadness or woe, as was his nature.

And I will forever love that Scottish sentiment of leaving – but always coming home.

My dear dad himself departed this world, far too soon… But not without one last song to be sung.

On my final visit to see him I slowly walked the bleak and sterile hospital hallway with heavy heart. Then entering the room I paused as the sound of that distinct, slightly high pitched voice, filled the air. I glanced at his bedside, where his three grandchildren leaned neatly in beside him and I drew closer to listen.

And knowing his days were dear, he sang to them the song, held forever in his heart..

“You take the high road and I’ll take the low road but I”ll be in Scotland afore ye.” Where wild flowers spring and the wee birdies sing
On the steep, steep side of Loch Lomond”