The Final Gifts, part three

a song for my Mother

Di Krivchenia is a boss. Many of you already know that.

Together at our "Dunk the Monk" celebration in Williamstown.

DiAnn (aka Mom) had a career as a voice professor at Marietta College and West Virginia University. She was also a soulful performer. Mom did great work while raising three children, and we all turned out OK.

(Kolya struggles to admit when he is wrong. Maya can eviscerate you with biting words. I'm flawed in multiple directions, as you already know from reading this Substack. That said, we're all decent people and functional adults.)

All along the way, DiAnn has been a devoted sister, a supportive daughter, and loving auntie to her nieces and nephews. One of her proudest chapters in life was the period that she took care of her mother.

Mom and Mom's Mom

My Grandmother, Grace, was living as an independent widow, until the age of 91, when a stroke left her unable to walk without assistance. After Granny Grace completed inpatient rehab, Mom decided that she would prefer to have her at home. She lovingly attended to her for the next thirty months, making sure that quality of life was excellent. DiAnn was there with Grace as she drew her final breath.

DiAnn's tragic flaw, if she has one, is that she tries to do too much. She does it all well! But sometimes, she runs out of energy. As she ripens, she is learning how to find the quiet time she needs to recharge her batteries.

One of my happiest memories with Mom is greeting her on the tenth day of her first meditation retreat. After decades of serving and teaching others, she finally got to spend ten days attending to her own needs.

On the tenth day, when we could all speak again, her face was relaxed and radiant. Seeing my mother glowing with peace was one of the happiest moments of my life.

---

For Mother's Day 2021, I wrote a little song.  It starts like this:

You showed me all your judo moves,

Even though you only had a few.

You taught me how to dance.

Pulled your hair back like a samurai,

Grabbed the biggest kitchen knife:

The watermelon didn't stand a chance.

Of course, Mom was imitating John Belushi's samurai character from Saturday Night Live:

RIP, John Belushi. May you forever be well.

I was too young to know about adult TV shows, so the cultural reference escaped me. I did see that my Mom was howling with laughter, until tears ran down her face, and I loved that. Watermelon juice was flying around the kitchen. The memory still brings me joy.

Mom really did show me her judo moves. Although I generally avoided fights, her instructions came in handy on a few occasions. I once threw a larger assailant by stepping behind his leg and pushing on his shoulder. He leapt back up, swinging wildly. At that point, I switched to verbal judo and convinced him that we didn't need to fight. The fact that I had already thrown him may have dissuaded my assailant from taking further chances against a skinny ten year-old boy with long, blonde hair.

---

Professional composers often write little songs for their loved ones. Usually, they are not shared widely. However, sometimes these songs are elevated to the status of high art by a heartfelt performance. Stevie Wonder's sweet tune for his newborn daughter "Isn't She Lovely.” I just heard it playing over a speaker at Hat Yai airport, between Thai pop songs.

Isn't he lovely? A jewel of American music.

The song I wrote for Mom is called "Steady and Strong." The title refers to love that has been there for me, and for all of DiAnn's family, throughout our time together.

I remember being pleased with the song, and I remember that Mom loved it. However, since I don't produce pop music, I didn't really have an outlet for it. (Music that hasn't been professionally recorded is the theme of this “Final Gifts” series. In seven days, I’ll take my monastic vows and stop sharing music.)

All I have is what we call a "scratch track" in the music biz. Still, it must have been all right to please a professor of voice.

In my dream universe, Stevie Wonder's sweet, smiling voice sails over the catchy piano part. Until I get the call from Mr. Wonder, you'll just have to listen to the version I recorded on a cell phone in the wee hours before Mother's Day:

Steady and Strong:

Please enjoy! And please let the people you love know how much you appreciate them.

May you and your family forever be well!

With Mettā,

G

Steady and Strong

Words and Music ©️ 2021: Grisha Krivchenia (ASCAP)

You showed me all your judo moves,

Even though you only had a few.

You taught me how to fight.

You pulled your hair back like a samurai,

Grabbed the biggest kitchen knife.

The watermelon didn't stand a chance.

Trapping fireflies on summer nights,

Driving to the park to fly a kite,

Pitching baseballs in the sun,

Back porch listening to a thunderstorm,

I shivered, you kept me warm:

a mother's lessons in love.

Chorus:

So many good times, big and small,

I wish I could recall them all.

I wish I still knew all your songs.

As I grow I appreciate

The gifts of time you gave,

your love – steady and strong.

You sat me at the piano chair,

Brushed me with your long brown hair.

You sang while I played.

Music lessons started in the womb,

Continued in the living room.

You showed me how a song is made.