Blue Eyes Crying

An old man reminices about his childhood and his wife

Sam sat by the window of the #72 crosstown bus which must have just stopped by a school because it was filling up with noisy teenagers humped with overstuffed backpacks listening to their thumping iPods, with the volumes set way to high to be healthy. Some were talking on cellphones, others chattering about their day--Like you know--ah so it like s-o-o rocked. Sam smiled because he knew the adults of his day must have been shaking their heads and wondering what will become of the English language when he and his friends were talking, wow, crazy, cool man, Dig.



Sam began noticing other passengers in front of him; many were women from downtown offices fashionably dressed, colorful silk scarves, carrying large purses. Most had raincoats or umbrellas. Some carrying cups of Starbucks coffee...probably low fat lattes. One young woman was sitting reading what looked like a romance novel, another either checking her messages or texting on her cell phone.

What Sam found amusing was that almost all of them no matter how smartly they were dressed wore trainers like they were about to set out on a marathon as soon as they stepped off from the bus. Sam referred to it as West Coast Chic because you would never see women dressed like this in Montreal.

A young Asian girl was sitting sideways in the seat talking nonstop without a break or breath. Her backpack pressed into his side but he didn't mind much because he liked being wound up tight in his blankets at home, it helped him. It relaxed him and made him sleepy. He attributed this to being swaddled as a baby; he had no proof of this but it made a good theory.

He rested his head against the window and looked out at the grey brown smog through the raindrops running down the window. Even though it was only 4 o'clock, the sky was dark.The neon lights from the shop windows and headlamps from passing cars was reflecting off the wet pavement and it all took on the look of an impressionist painting. He should have waited until after rush hour to go home; went to a coffee shop or checked out Virgin Records for any new Jazz releases. It's not like he had anyone waiting for him at home.

 
It would have been forty years tomorrow; their Ruby anniversary. Rubies are thought to possess an eternal inner flame. A symbol for the passion that is still very alive and strong after 40 years. Not that he knew that, he had to look it up on the computer. Beryl would have known this if she were still alive. She knew everyone’s Birthdays and Anniversaries. Sam used to rely on one of his daughters to remind him that their special day was approaching but now that she's gone he has never failed to remember. Life is strange. 

For a moment there he had thought that he had caught the scent of her favorite perfume. The perfume he used to buy for her before it was discontinued and was no longer available, Quelque fleurs by Houbigant. He can smell it like it was next to him now. He closed his eyes and wrapped himself in the scent and all kinds of memories came flooding back, not only memories of Beryl but memories from his childhood.



Love is like a burning ember and only memories remain; the words began to bubble up through his consciousness. It was from a song his father used to whistle on days like this. And through the ages I remember Blue eyes crying in the rain. 

Sam remembered one time this song came on the radio when his mother was at the stove making supper and his father was sitting at the table fixing the toaster. He remembered how his father got up and took his mother in his arms and began waltzing around the kitchen. She had on an apron and carried a wooden spoon in her hand and he in his coveralls holding a Stanley screwdriver. She laughed and complained that dinner would be ruined but Sam knew that she didn't want to stop. 


What was the rest of that song...that wasn't the first verse. How did it go?? In the moonlight glow I, no it was twilight.
In the twilight glow I see her, blue eyes crying in the rain.

What was next? When we kissed goodbye we, no, no it’s when we kissed good-bye and parted, I knew we would,...we would never meet again. That's it that's the first verse. Then came love is like a dying ember. The last verse was Someday when we meet in heaven and only memories remain. 
No! That’s not it... when we meet up yonder not in heaven. We'll stroll hand in hand again. In the land...in the land that knows no parting, for blue eyes crying in the rain, that's it that's the whole song!



In the twilight glow I see her,


blue eyes crying in the rain

.
When we kissed goodbye and parted

 
I knew we'd never meet again.



Love is like a dying ember

 
And only memories remain

. 
And through the ages I'll remember 


Bue eyes crying in the rain.



Someday when we meet up yonder,
W
e'll stroll hand in hand again. 

In the land that knows no parting

 
For blue eyes crying in the rain. 



Sam wasn't sure if it was the awareness of the ghostly silence or the salty taste of a tear that brought him back in to the moment but he awoke with a start to clapping and giggling of young girls around him. Everyone on the bus was looking directly at him. Someone touched his shoulder and when he turned he was looking at an old lady maybe ten years his senior, wearing the perfume he thought he only imagined.

“Thank you for those wonderful memories. That song always brings me back in time. I had forgotten about it for years. I missed my stop but it doesn't matter, I had to hear it all.” She said.
 

Sam could feel the heat of embarrassment rising up within him and he imagined that he probably looked like an over-ripe tomato about now, then to his horror he seen several passengers with cellphone cameras pointed at him.
Great!!! Now his grand-children are going to see their Opa make a fool of himself on YouTube or facebook. 'Old Guy cry’s and sings on the bus.”

Reviews

[Larry Dyson]

great memory Jack..I was thinking along this line today.

[Marie]

Really good. Some typos you've got to fix. I love that song.

[Jack Dawkins]

Oh damn, I'll check that out. It's one of my favorites too especially when Willie sings it and my Father really did walk around whistling that song, when he was walking the horses.

[Samuel Dickens]

I smiled through much of this, waxed sentimental the rest. You had me right there with Sam, who I now know shares more than a name with me. Among other things, I, too, use music as markers in time and memories.