Family Cemetery, North Carolina, May 2010presented with some comments:
I've been in and out of this cemetery a number of times, but never really noticed this footstone until the last time through.
A few years back, Grandmary asked for tickets to see Mama Mia! on Broadway, because she said that she always loved the music of ABBA and was a big fan. Now, I was there in the '70s when ABBA was big, and I have NO recollection of ABBA being much more than a passing part of my childhood. Easy listening music** yes, but hello? My mother? A huge fan of ABBA?
It's little things like that that shift your perception of your parents as ... well, just your parents, and remind you that they are people, with identities separate from their relationship to you-- that they are people with their own distinct preferences in musical styles.
Okay. Well then.
Grandmary likes ABBA.
Grandmary really liked Mama Mia! She was dancing in her seat and trying to sing along with the Broadway musicians. (not at all embarrassing)
Seeing this headstone clarified that WHOLE episode for me.
Grandmary likes ABBA because ... it's in the blood.
**"The Lite FM?"
"It's my kryptonite. I'd wage many persons born in the mid to late nineteen sevenites share the same affliction. Like, whatever radio waves were wafting through the air at the moment of your conception inexorably bonded themselves to your disposition. Ergo: my parents were really into Lionel Richie and the Commodores." .... "C'mon. Everyone has a musical weakness. Even you."
This Must be the Place by Kate Racculia on page 185
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