tamarjacobson

I am humming all the while I do things about the house, making up the tunes as I go along. Sometimes, I become quite loud, and I notice that there is a rhythmic, repetitive tone, back and forth, back and forth. 

Humming while I: 

• wash dishes, 
• prepare Ada's food, 
• clean out the coffee machine, 
• freshen up the cat litter box, 
• pile laundry into the washer, 
• light candles and incense for watering plants, 
• feed the birds,
• water the yard.

This morning I noticed the humming while I squeezed fresh grapefruit juice to drink with my daily vitamins, and suddenly I remembered the rhythmic, repetitive tones of singing and humming of my nanny and the servants as they polished the floors and cleaned the house when I was a very young child growing up in Africa. The memory came to me in a flash, as vivid as can be. I stood still, silently in the kitchen remembering – I could hear the sounds, smell the smells of Africa, and feel the soothing vibrations of the humming and singing as I would lie in my bed with flu, or whatever, enjoying a day off from school. 

My mind wanders to my mother calling out in lilting sing-song tones, "See you in the morning," each night as she kissed me goodnight when I was a child. Leaving my 92-year-old mother a few weeks ago in Israel to return to Philadelphia, not knowing when we will meet again, we said to each other with tears in our eyes, "See you tomorrow" - a newly adopted expression of comfort that one of her great grandchildren came up with when sadly and anxiously parting from loved ones.

Memories come from hidden corners of my brain, rising up when I least expect them, reminding me of my deepest sources of strength and comfort.