Requiescat in pace

[mac_stone]

Mary Travers has died.

My mom had all their records, stuck in the very back of the big console record player, with her previous name written with indelible marker, using careful and pretty cursive, on the album covers.

I asked about those albums, once. The resulting conversation was one of those odd and slightly disconcerting experiences that result when children discover that a parent was complete human being, with stories of her own, before having children.

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

The first record I can recall listening to as a child was an album of my parents', Peter Paul and Mary's 10 years together. My sister and I would put it on our little plastic portable record player. When it got to "500 miles," I'd always cry.

Then, when I had my own children, my mom gave me a cassette tape of Peter Paul and Mary's album Moving. I have a very clear memory of my oldest child (who is now 20) singing "Settle Down" ("somebody tell that woman, somebody tell that wooooman...")--and I remember singing to them "Flora" from that album.

I was sad to hear she'd died. They were lovely together.

It's funny what you say about discovering parents had a life before children. It *is* disconcerting.

[mac-stone.livejournal.com]

It's disconcerting, but sweet, at the same time. And yes, exactly what you describe -- these were some of the first songs I remember.

[bmlg.livejournal.com]

Also strange is realising, after a parent dies, that you may be the only person who knows that story now, and you know it only at second-hand.

[bogwitch64.livejournal.com]

What a great association.

Mary Travers lived fairly nearby in Redding (about 3 towns south.) I met her once in my favorite Chinese restaurant in Danbury, only because my husband was a huge fan and he was going all fanboy upon seeing her. She was very sweet, and very gracious, and didn't at all mind him gushing, though she did seem to blush a little.