I found another treasure when I was cleaning the top of Mom’s dresser. I don’t know where she finds the little things she leaves there, but I’m often surprised by items I haven’t seen in years. And this one brings me to tears.
I remember typing it up for Dad about five years ago. The print is large, because his eyesight was weakening but still strong enough to read large type back then. Mom’s mind was stronger then, too, but we knew we were dealing with Alzheimer’s.
Dad plays a little bit of keyboard by ear and he’d been playing a song back then that he thought was pretty. And he was trying to remember the words. So I typed up the lyrics to Dr. Zhivago’s “Somewhere My Love” written by Maurice Jarre. I thought the lyrics were beautiful at the time. Now I find them so touching they make me ache.
And as I read these lyrics now, I think of how Dad spends his day taking care of Mom. And I think of how often each day Mom looks at Dad and asks, “Who are you?”
And how Dad patiently and repeatedly replies, “I’m Raymon.” Or “I’m your sweetheart. Or “I’m the man who loves you…”
“Somewhere, my love, there will be songs to sing…Although the snow covers the hope of spring.
Somewhere a hill…blossoms in green and gold…and there are dreams…all that your heart can hold.
Someday…we’ll meet again, my love…Someday whenever the spring breaks through.
You’ll come to me…out of the long ago, warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow.
Till then, my sweet…think of me now and then. God, speed my love ‘til you are mine again.”
And I’m so very grateful that both of my parents know Jesus and love Him. And that because of that there truly is a “somewhere” in their future. Thank You, Jesus.