My sweet sister Lisa, despite her disabilities, has a magical memory. Savant-like, especially related to music that underscored both joyful and challenging moments as we grew up. Whenever Lisa gets a song in her head that propels her into recall mode, I stop whatever I’m doing because I know the memory will be rich and detailed as she summons up every morsel of a moment long past.
A week ago, Lisa and I were in the car together and I made sure I had an oldies station on for her. Music from our childhood, 60’s and 70’s classics, are her all-time favorites, too. Lisa loves “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” especially the version sung by B.J. Thomas.
The song became popular when the Paul Newman and Robert Redford movie, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” was released in 1970. Despite the turbulence in our childhood, the pockets of ‘good stuff’ resonate just as powerfully for Lisa as the tricky bits and can I say…I’m grateful to the universe for that gift?
When “Raindrops” popped on the radio, Lisa perked up. Maybe it was relief? She’d been in a melancholy mood, talking about a cousin who passed away last month and as she reminisced about family members we’ve lost, she ticked off names, one by one, on both hands.
Lisa became teary as she thought about our cousin Dan, hoping he was “together again” with our dad. Wiping away tears…raindrops of her own…she wondered if I could imagine what they were doing in that exact moment. Lisa’s vision? They were barbequing and enjoying time with our sweet pup Sadie that we said goodbye to just four months ago. Raindrops on the radio, teardrops on my face…and Lisa’s. Thank goodness for the small box of tissues in the center console of my car.
We continued to drive and I was relieved when Lisa’s interests shifted to her favorite trivia game, “Vicki do you remember…” where Lisa dances down memory lane with tidbits of memories. Whether I remember or not, she delights me with a story. Sometimes they’re brief glimpses into a literal moment – a scene she recalls vividly – and other times she provides a thirty-minute-deep dive; the action, the setting, the who, the where, the why.
“Raindrops”? It prompted a deep dive. Lisa began with her standard intro, “Vicki, do you remember…” and when I said I did, indeed recall her love of the song, I turned the volume up so we could sing along with B.J. for a bit. When Lisa’s really into a tune, she brings out enthusiastic hand gestures and occasionally remembers enough from her sign-language classes to sign and sing along. Were the windows down? But of course…and we enjoyed seeing a few smiles from other drivers while we were at a stoplight. Lisa in full voice, gesturing with gusto? Impossible NOT to smile. 😊
When the song ended, Lisa circled back to her “Vicki, do you remember” routine and I had a hunch about where she was headed. When we were kids, one of our mom/Sue’s epic backyard parties – a fundraiser for Lisa’s special needs workshop – included a dance routine that the moms put together – all dressed up like characters from Butch and Sundance. Oh…if only I had photos. Sue loved ‘costumes for a cause’ and our patio was often a make-shift stage.
Lisa asked if I remembered their routine – complete with umbrellas and little pirouette moves, dancing to “Raindrops”. Unable to continue until I verbalized ‘Yes, I remember’, she then asked if I recalled the snacks served at the shindig. Lisa didn’t wait for me to respond; without missing a beat she launched into the details as if the party happened the day before. That’s my Lisa!
Mom made really bad popcorn balls for the event. Lisa described the burnt caramel sauce that Sue used to coat and mold them, rendering the popcorn rock hard, and inedible. More akin to sugar-coated cannonballs than a treat. Yes. I remembered. 😉
Fully embracing the memories, Lisa giggled as she relived the fabulous (and honestly, in retrospect, dangerous) food fight that enSUEd the day of the fundraiser. Enough “liquid courage’ had been consumed (some sort of fancy rootin-tootin beer/whiskey drink Sue concocted as the signature cocktail for the event) and the mild-mannered moms started a popcorn war. Imagine a snowball fight…with popcorn balls the size of softballs…all with “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” as the accompanying soundtrack.
Oh yes…I remembered. And because the event was for families, it wasn’t long before the kids joined in. Lisa asked if I recalled where our dad was that day and I thought it was funny that she missed that detail. “Yes – he was there – hiding in the shed”, I shared, as I thought about his dodge into the safety of the little metal toolshed.
In part, he sought protection from the onslaught, but I remember seeing something more on his face. Unlike the other party-goers, he wasn’t smiling that day. He was retreating. Not just from the food fight but from the scene altogether. I was glad that Lisa sometimes missed those moments – the tension between our parents.
As we neared our destination, I could see that Lisa was happy, yet exhausted from the big rewind. It put a big smile on my face, too. Music, memories, love, and togetherness. Those four elements provide strength and help me summon resilience through humor.
In my post on Heart of the Matter today, I share another fun story about music and wonder…all from a dream…reminding me that a single tune that speaks to your soul holds infinite power and delight. Just like Lisa and “Raindrops“.
Vicki 😊
Victoria Ponders 
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