Results for: bedtime with the beatles
J251208F 
2009-07-02 - extension: rar - size: 55 MB
J251208F
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Let it Be -- for Mick -- mountain dulcimer This song is played in memory of my sister. A part of the eulogy written by my brother appears (More) This song is played in memory of my sister. A part of the eulogy written by my brother appears below. Space limits on YouTube unfortunately prevent me from including the complete text here.
When I speak about my sister, or when I hear others speak about her death, we often use the word "troubled." She had been troubled for many years, we all say, trying to explain, to ourselves and to others, her circumstances. But I remind myself, and I'd like to remind all of you, that the word "troubled" does not encapsulate all of my sister's life. Here are some other things I know about my sister Kathleen:
Like her father, she liked to drive a nice car. Like her father she liked to keep that car clean, and she liked to drive it fast. Like her father, she could fix a malfunctioning car without needing to take it to a mechanic.
Like her mother, she was shy. Like her mother, she hated talking to strangers on the phone; she was both amused and horrified to find herself in a job where she was required to be on the phone all day.
She loved cats. Dogs were fine, but she valued cats for their independence. Despite her tough guy image, she was absurdly silly and sentimental when it came to her cats, and each cat had an entire regiment of pet names and nicknames. I wouldn't go so far as to say her cats were spoiled, but many people go thorough life without finding it necessary to give their cats whipped cream on plates every evening as a bedtime snack.
She knew at lot about history, science, current events, she was curious and knowledgeable about the world around her. Any time that she decided to devote herself to studies she did well in school. She had hidden and unexplored skills. Like her older brother she could draw well, she had a keen sense of design, like both brothers she had some skill at music. She played violin well as a child, she had a good singing voice. She wrote well. I always told her that if she seriously turned her hand to writing, she'd become THE writer of the family.
Unlike either of her brothers, she was a very tidy person; she liked to keep her house organized and spotless.
She was not in any way a girly-girl, but she was fastidious about her hair and clothes. Feeling like she was overdue for a visit to her stylist made her anxious. She wanted her clothes to be clean and well-made. She liked getting a massage, getting pampered, putting on lotion. Despite the plethora of cats, she managed (unlike me, for instance) to never appear in public looking as if she lived with a plethora of cats.
Kathy's shyness meant that she did not make friends easily, but when she did make a friend, she was loyal, she was kind, she was devoted. Like her father, she would do any favor or help a friend in any way she could. As a teenager almost all her friends were my friends, she was mature and well-spoken for her age, and got on well with people older than she. Any friend I ever had who met Kathy became her friend as well.
She could be impatient, and sometimes she took on the role of curmudgeon because it was expected of her. Like all of the family, she had a good sense of humor, she liked to laugh, and at least half of the curmudgeon role was just a part she played, with a wink.
She liked being a nonconformist. At her job at the U of M, she delighted in very specifically not being a U of M sports fan. She liked to cheer for the other team.
Kathy liked a good cigarette, she liked Mt. Dew. She was good at thinking of presents to give people. She was determined, she was stubborn, she was opinionated. She liked a lively debate, and she liked to be right.
I remember the family reunion, Dad's retirement party: it was the first time Jen met the extended family, and Kathy smoked cigars and joked with my uncles in the backyard, playing up her image as the tough cookie. That was the beginning of years and years of good times: family dinners, visits, holidays. It is a shame that plain, everyday happiness does not stick in the mind with the tenacity of trouble and heartache. We loved her in those unremarkable good times, and we loved her in the midst of the troubled and tumultuous portions of her life. And she loved us, too.
I want us to be tough, as Kathy was, (although inside she was a softy) and I want to tenaciously remember the good visits with her, good conversations, laughter, teasing, eating meals together, exchanging gifts, clearing the table, petting the cat. The ordinary hours we are lucky to have with the people we love. When we were in the midst of these experiences with Kathleen, they seemed unremarkable. But on reflection we can see the miracle of their common and everyday joy. We were lucky she was with us. (Less)
"You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" She was a little serious lol... it was past her bedtime... but she wanted to do the song with me, (More) She was a little serious lol... it was past her bedtime... but she wanted to do the song with me, she's been practicing since last night!
it's a pity the camer isn't good at mixing sounds lol (Less)
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