Hey, Mooh: That's a wonderful story. Here's one in return:

Twenty years or so ago when I was Director of a Museum, we were negotiating to buy 11 acres of adjoining land to use as nature trails.
There were three houses on the property... all old and falling apart. An elderly woman and her husband lived in the main house, and a sister and brother lived in the small house and a small cottage. The property belonged to the elderly woman, Helen Dupuis and her husband and even though it was worth a great deal of money, Mrs. Dupuis and her husband were living a near-miserly life.Mr. Dupuis was almost completely blind and spent all of his time sitting around, listening to television, from what I could figure. He couldn't really do much of anything, so all the work and responsibility rested on Mrs. Dupuis. Once we began negotiating to buy the poperty, Mr. Dupuis moved down to a small home he and his wife owned in Florida, and the sister and brother moved away. That left Mrs. Dupuis by herself, to handle all the legal problems, trying to sell the property. And there were many. For several months, she was there alone, out in the country with no family, and I started checking on her to make sure that she was alright. Before long, I wasn't going to check on her, I was going because I had such a delightful time listening to her talk about her family history. And she had endless photos to illustrate the stories. What started out as a part of my job became a wonderful, close friendship. It didn't really make any difference that I was in my early 40's at the time and she was in her 70's. It wasn't a romance-thing... just a genuine appreciation for someone. And I know that she looked forward to my stopping over. She'd put a pot of coffee on (if it wasn't on already) and she'd regale me with stories of her life.

When her parents bought the property, they had the main house moved there from another location (and it was a BIG house.) She had photographs of the house up on an enormous platform, being moved by several horses! The house was perched on top of a hill overlooking a lake, and it was beyond my comprehension how they could have gotten it up there, moving it with horses. And then, she'd tell me of the good times they had when she was a girl. Her Father played the accordian and one of her sisters played piano, and she'd remember the nights they sat around in the living room, singing. There were countless stories... each more fascinating than the previous one.

When we finally closed the deal on the house, I felt a great loss in my life. I went over at 4 in the morning, the day that she was leaving, to say goodbye. She'd hired someone to drive her to Florida in their car, and there were several people sitting around in the kitchen when I arrived. It was still dark out. But, she managed to slip away and we went out in the backyard and stood there together, watching the sun come up. There was a big pine tree in the back yard and when the sun hit the flower buds, they lit up like candles. I'd never seen anything as beautiful as that... it looked like a 100 foot tall Christmas tree.

Touching hearts across a couple of generations is a rare thing... I think as much as anything, because we never make the effort. But, I'll never forget Mrs. Dupuis. Now, it seems strange that I am close to the age she was when I got to know her. Doesn't seem so old any more.

And of course, I wrote a song about it..

"Why is it when you're young, it's the good old days,
And when you're old, it's the thing to be young?
And just about the time that you learn how to live,
Everybody thinks you're life is done?
And everything you learned way back then
Doesn't really mean a thing
And nobody wants to hear the good old songs
When they've got a new song to sing"

I often wonder about songwriters who are so focused on their own small slice of life, who walk past the most beautiful, fascinating stories every day and never stop to listen to them...

I'm glad that you did, Mooh..

Jerry