During Covid I joined Southern Songwriters. We met online each week and each week we were given a suggested prompt. This song was written simply based on the prompt “100” and I wrote this song in less than two hours. A few months later, I sent it to Dave Johnson to add bluegrass instruments – which he did superbly – and suddenly I was a bluegrass songwriter. Don’t let the light-hearted sound fool you – getting old can be seriously sad and lonely! There is a good mix of humor and seriousness in this one, though. I really do wish for a time when there will be no more war and no more poverty! Heaven, perhaps?
Virtually no family has escaped the scourge of dementia. When it first makes its appearance, in little barely perceptible ways, it can be terrifying. Those of us who have lived through it with a loved one are afraid whenever memory lapses start to appear. The light-hearted sound of this song belies the serious subject.
Sometimes I forget little things,
like what day it is, or where dishes go.
And sometimes little things are important things,
like is my buddy here James or Joe?
Somedays I can be clear and clever
just like I used to be, as I recall.
But sometimes I’m confused it seems forever
by a question that means nothing at all.
I don’t mean to worry you, but I can see it on your face
every time I slip and make a little mistake.
We’ve both been witness to what a failing mind can do to lives,
and I never want to see that fear in your eyes.
I hope that I say important things
to our kids and you while I can –
that the crazy won’t erase all the good times,
and you’ll all remember me as a loving man.
I don’t mean to make you cry, but it’s important that you know,
what I may not say out loud when it’s time to go.
A lot of things I’ll never know, and some little things forgotten, oh,
but you can bet I’ll never forget this one little thing:
