Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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Heartsongs

5/5/2014

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"Where words fail, music speaks." --Hans Christian Anderson

Sometimes music conveys a message better than mere words. My Mom and I often had a very difficult time communicating with one another, but she was great at sharing what was in her heart with a song. One sultry southern evening in late August of 1997, my Mom, my husband and I went to a jazz club in Winston-Salem called Beneath The Rain Cellar to hear a band play. My mother had known the band members for many years and she was excited to hear them play again. We got a table close to the stage, as the room quickly filled to capacity. While waiting for our drinks, Mama went up to speak to her friends before their set began. She called me over and introduced me to them. One of the members took me aside. "I need you to do me a huge favor," he said. "Can you talk your Mom into doing a song with us?" I promised him I would try. We went back to our table and listened as their smokey, sexy sound filled the room. They were amazing! When they broke for intermission, I asked Mom if she'd sing a song with them. She didn't want to, but reluctantly she agreed. "What would you like me to sing?" she asked. I told her to sing whatever she wanted, that I'd love it no matter what she chose.

She proceeded to make her way through the crowd to the little front stage, while the band members settled themselves for the second half of their set. The lights went out except for a spotlight on the stage and the lead singer introduced her. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are fortunate to have our dear friend Leslie Gwynn in the house tonight. She's agreed to sing a song for you," he said and handed her the mic. "I'm dedicating this song to my daughter, Amy, who is in the audience. This is for you, baby," she said as she looked into the dark at the spot where I sat. In the next moment, her smoldering, provocative voice rang out the famous Gershwin tune "Summertime," and she wove the mother's tale like a magic spell over the audience. I think I started to cry about halfway through. I know I didn't stop until she was done. Listening to her sing those words to me, the room fell away and it was just the two of us, mother and daughter and a message shared between us of love and hope for the future. The thunderous applause of the crowd broke the spell, but the euphoric state sparked by those precious moments stayed with me for days afterwards. This is the last happy memory I have of my mother. Six weeks later, she was gone, dead at the age of forty-seven. The message she conveyed to me that night, however, remains.

George Gershwin – Summertime lyrics

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Oh, Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky

But until that morning
There's a'nothing can harm you
With your daddy and mammy standing by

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

*Image by Saco Takata from Pinterest






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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery