I Remember You

By Gretchen Keefer

Officer Hayes watched the young man as Officer Krall relayed the news. He was just a kid, really, this boy who had so confidently invited the officers in out of the August heat and admitted there was no one else at home.  Hayes saw disbelief, comprehension and grief cross the youth’s face in rapid succession. Krall had carefully ascertained that Elizbeth Burke, as the driver’s license stated, did live here and was this boy’s mother.  Now the young man heard that she was dead. Hayes noticed the slumping shoulders and sagging limbs and quickly guided the boy to a chair. Hand comfortingly on the sobbing young man’s shoulder, Hayes asked, “Son, is there someone you can call? Another relative?”

The boy wiped his cheeks and sniffed, “I can call Uncle Phil. He’ll know what to do.” He pulled his phone from a back pocket and punched in the numbers. “Hi Uncle Phil. This is Tyler. There are two officers here,” he paused, “and they say that…… that Mom’s…..” Tyler stifled a sob, “that Mom’s dead!”

Hayes caught the phone as it fell from the now openly sobbing Tyler’s hand. He spoke, explaining who he was and what had happened, then listened, thanked and closed the phone. Again, he squeezed the young man’s shoulder. “Son, your uncle will be here in half an hour. We’ll leave a number he can call for more information.” Krall put a business card on the table beside Tyler. “Will you be all right ‘til then?”

Tyler lifted his head, wiped his wet cheeks and runny nose on his sleeve. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” He stood and went to the piano in the center of the room. He looked like he was going to cry again as he remembered his mother’s music. Glancing down at the keyboard, he touched a few keys.

The two officers had done all they could. “Just call that number if you need something,” Hayes said. “Your uncle will be here soon.” As they left, the first notes of a familiar hymn followed them out the door.

Uncle Phil and Aunt Connie brought hugs and pizza. After food, discussion and a call to the number the officers had left, they went together to complete the necessary ID business. Tyler was nearly twenty-one and as a legal adult, he could have done what was required alone. However, he was very grateful for his uncle by his side. Back at the house, Phil asked, “Have you called Morgan, yet?”

“No. He shuts his phone off before a concert. He’s doing the fair over in Madison County. I’ll call later.” Tyler began playing a gentle hymn. “Mom played this a lot when Dad was sick. It must be her favorite.”

Connie smiled. “It was your dad’s favorite. Liz played it to comfort him. Her favorite was this one.” The book opened easily to a more spirited piece. Tyler played a few notes.

“Yeah, I remember this one, too. I like it.” Tyler paused, thoughtful. “There were other people here, too, playing for Dad. I’d come home from school and hear them.”

“Yes,” Connie said, “several of your parents’ friends and students came to play for your dad during the last month or two. It was their way of giving back for the pleasure and joy your parents had given them through their music. I’m sure they would be willing to play for you and Morgan, too.”

Tyler smiled slightly. “Thanks, but I think we’re good, for now. We have our bands.” He paused. “We’re so different, Morgan and me. He’s really into rock, while I’m more bluegrass.” His smiled widened. “At least we don’t compete for gigs.”

Phil spoke up. “It wasn’t just hymns and classical pieces your parents’ played. Liz especially liked to have fun with songs. She enjoyed playing for school kids.  Do you remember some of the extra verses your family made up for old folk tunes?”

“You mean like the last verse to ‘Clementine’?  ‘Now you Scouts should learn a lesson/From this little tale of mine. /Artificial respiration/ would have saved my Clementine’.” Tyler laughed.

Phil and Connie’s two young adult children arrived from their work just then, and the cousins started playing and singing the fun kids’ songs they all remembered from their childhood.

“Thanks,” said Tyler. “That was helpful.” He sighed, “I guess I should call Morgan now.”

Morgan was in a great mood; the concert had gone well and he was flying high. His reaction to Tyler’s news was equally strong. He threw the phone on the ground and stomped off yelling. Jerry picked the phone up, “Hey, little bro, what’d ya say to him? Ruined his good mood.”

“Hey, Jer, I just had to give him some bad news.” Tyler paused to collect himself again. “Our Mom was killed in a car wreck today.”

“Wow. Bummer man. Real heavy. Hey, we’ll take care of him.”
“Thanks, Jer. And, Jer, don’t let him drive.”

“No way man. We got this.”

Phil and his family left shortly after, with plans to return and continue helping Tyler and Morgan with the details this change in their lives would demand. Tyler picked up his guitar and began to pluck the strings, picking out a new tune. He was still working on it when Morgan arrived.

Morgan grabbed his electric guitar, turned the amp up high and struck several discordant riffs.  The guitar screeched and screamed, the amps squealed another few minutes, then Morgan threw the guitar down with a clatter. He sank onto the floor, head in hands, his shoulders shaking.  Tyler turned off the amps and watched, waiting.

Not even lifting his head, Morgan asked, “What happened?” Tyler explained all he knew so far and what the family’s plans were. Then Tyler went back to plucking the guitar strings and hummed a few bars. Then both brothers were silent for several more minutes.

“Try a C-chord there,” Morgan suggested, “right after la dum dum ‘your voice’.”

Tyler changed the notes. “Yeah, that’s better. Thanks.” Both brothers were talented musicians, well-taught by their mother, and often collaborated on writing or rewriting music for their bands.  Now Morgan understood that Tyler was working on a new song. He approached his brother and looked at the notes he had written.

Humming softly Morgan looked over the words as Tyler had placed them, “I remember your smile,..hmm, da, da, your smile/ beacon in my life’ Good.  ‘I remember your hands,  da, da, showing me, da, ….. I remember you…    Nice. For Mom?”

“Yeah, for Mom.”

Morgan sniffed. “Gotta put her music in here somewhere. ‘I remember your music/ warm, fun….”

“Joyful. Her music was joyful. I felt it in my soul.”

“Yes, ‘warm, fun, joyful/ filling my soul.’  And let’s pick up the tempo a bit on that verse and end with a positive vibe.”

The brothers worked together the rest of the night until they were satisfied they had a fitting tribute to their mother. They kept choking up – which they attributed to being tired – and the paper with their notes was tear splotched. They had never felt closer to one another.

A few weeks later Tyler’s band had a gig. As the last song of the evening, Tyler invited his brother to join him. “For our mom,” said Tyler.  With only the bass and drums playing softly in the background, the brothers strummed their guitars and sang “I Remember You”. 

The audience was silent for a beat or two, and then erupted into loud applause, whistles and calls. The song was a hit. “I Remember You” was so popular it was requested at nearly every event where either of them played. Before long the local radio station wanted to feature it. From there, more radio stations played it, and eventually a record deal was offered.  

Morgan and Tyler still play different styles of music. They still have their own bands. But they have added a new feature to their work: school concerts. The fun music their mother taught them, they are now teaching other children, because they remember Mom.

I Remember You

I remember your smile
Happy, warm, bright,
A beacon in my life
Your smile
I remember your voice,
Gentle, teaching, singing
Never scolding, always loving
Your voice
I remember you
I remember you
I remember your hands
Caressing, healing, holding
Teaching me to play
Your hands
I remember your music
light, fun, joyful
Filling my soul
Your music
I remember you
I remember you
I remember your music
I’ll always remember you

After teaching English to adult learners for a long time, Gretchen Keefer started writing short fiction for fun. Her stories are family friendly and, hopefully entertaining and/or thought-provoking. She has been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul – The Magic of Christmas, Rain Magazine, CommuterLit.com, Ariel Chart,  Academyoftheheartandmind and some local anthologies.