Three Rights Make a Left

Bye Bye Blues

Four years ago last month, I sat with my mom alongside my dad when she was diagnosed with cancer. The Doctor said it was “everywhere” and that she didn’t have long. On the drive back to their home in Floresville from San Antonio, I told my mom, “There is one last lesson that you need teach us: how to die well.” Her back hurt so bad she had to sleep in a recliner in the living room, so that night I spent in the recliner next to her, holding her hand, praying with her and singing with her. My intent was to comfort and reassure her, but in true fashion, it was her that reassured me. In her beautiful alto voice she sang a familiar song: “Bye Bye Blues.” Twelve days later she died.

That song goes back to some of my earliest memories. When I was little, we lived in my dad’s boyhood state of Connecticut. I had asthma and spent a good deal of time in the hospital. I remember struggling to breathe and hearing my mother’s soothing voice singing: “Bye Bye Blues, Bye Bye Blues, Bye Bye Don’t Cry, Bye Bye Blues.” She made me a little calmer, made my breathing a little easier. My mother had the gift of a healing touch and voice and she knew it. My brother Ron was born while we lived there in Connecticut and soon afterwards we moved to Texas in hopes that a warmer climate would be better for my asthma. To be honest though, my mom was sorely homesick for Texas.

My brother Jeff was born when we lived in Hondo and whenever Ron or Jeff took sick, I would hear my mom rocking them, and the song Bye Bye Blues would ring throughout the house.

Then my youngest brother was born and the birth did not go well. He was delivered breach, bottom first, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, causing a critical lack of oxygen. Because of the lack of air he suffered brain damage and they told us he was a “Waterhead Baby”. That is, the spinal fluid wouldn’t drain and his head swelled up. Twice he went through brain surgery and twice we were told that surviving the night was unlikely. Both times my mom called every Christian she knew to the waiting room at Santa Rosa Hospital in San Antonio. Twice we had all-night prayer vigils. Twice my brother Shawn beat the odds and lived the night. Doctors called his survival a miracle and cited our prayer vigil and faith for the reason he was still alive. I can still see my mother with her hands on my tiny brother’s incubator praying and singing “Bye Bye Blues, Bye Bye Blues, Bye Bye Don’t Cry, Bye Bye Blues.” Looking back I am sure she sang it as much for the rest of us as she did for Shawn.

Now, fast forward to 2020. As a nation we are living through some of the most stressful times in our history. I have spent time in prayer over it but admittedly, not nearly enough. I need to remind myself that God’s people have endured much worse times than this. Spending time fretting about it is a waste of time that would be much better spent giving my stress over to God.

That being said, a few days ago I fell into a deep sleep napping in the middle of the day with the cable news on. I had a vivid dream of my mother next to me. She was singing an old familiar song: “Bye Bye Blues.” I woke at just the right time with sound of my mother singing still in my ears. I felt a familiar sense of calm, just like I did when I struggled with asthma. It was an indescribable feeling.

I realized that I had no idea about the background of that song. So I went to my computer and Googled it. It was written in 1925 by Bert Lown, who recorded it in 1930 as Big Band instrumental tune. It was recorded in subsequent years by Benny Goodman, Peggy Lee, Count Basie and others. But I deduced the version my mother had been influenced by was a hit in 1952 by Les Paul and his wife Mary Ford, when my mom was a teenager, four years before I was born. Les Paul, of course is most famous for his guitar design that has served as the gold standard throughout the Rock and Roll Era.

As I’m writing this, we have no idea what the outcome of the election will be. We do know that it is likely there will be a lot of stress by the time you read this. Please just turn that stress into prayer and if you need comfort feel free to tap into the song that comforted my brothers and me our whole life. Google “Bye Bye Blues”. I’d suggest listening to Bing Crosby and Louis Armstrong’s 1960 version. Sit back and let God’s peace wash over you.