Impressions Upon The Soul Long Ago

Early impressions at a very young age are sometimes much more powerful and long lasting than those experienced after we mature beyond those years when our minds and our hearts were like a luxurious sponge easily absorbing sensitive moments and retaining the memory in great detail and strong emotion.

Recently I learned that the mother of a friend and former co-worker had passed away.  She asked a group of mutual friends for suggestions on the perfect song to have sung at the funeral.  Because of my personal  progress beyond traditional Christian thought, my first response was to simply read the suggestions of others and express my condolences in a different way. 

However, the memory of my own mother who died about four years ago caused me to pause and give better consideration to the question about the perfect song to hear for a mother’s funeral service.  A love of music and especially old gospel hymns was something mom and I had shared.

As I thought about meaningful songs, I recalled a song that I had heard for the first time in 1983 while attending the funeral of my aunt, Hudy Dodge Middleton, in Henryetta, Oklahoma.  Her death had been unexpected.  The funeral was held in her local church.  My four sisters and I met in Bartlesville and drove to Henryetta for the funeral.

There was something very special and intimate in the way a trio of women of the congregation presented the song, “Sheltered In The Arms Of God”.  Their harmony was wonderful.  The experience of their music has kept that song somewhere in my memory ever since, although I may have only heard it or a reference to it a couple of times since then.  But from time to time the thought of that song, the lovely voices of the trio, and the sad time in our family has come to me in brief and reverent memory.

So I searched YouTube and found many different versions of “Sheltered In The Arms Of God”.  None could quite match the beauty and subtle qualities I recall from Aunt Hudy’s service.  The one which best recreated the mood and spirit of that day is this one by Heritage Singers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmNLa3_PSn8

Having searched for and found this song, I submitted it as my suggestion to the friend.

The experience of searching YouTube and sampling various songs triggered deeply held memories and emotions associated with my earliest recollections of attending a funeral service.  This memory is closely tied to my most close and personal connection to my mother, Lillian Berneice Childs Middleton.  The memory is generally vague.  I am not sure whose funeral service it was, but it was held at the Buchanan Funeral Home in Henryetta sometime in the 1950s.  The critical importance of the memory does not lie in the details of the service but in the experience of sharing that time seated beside mom along a row at or near the front of the chapel.  It was as if I could feel her emotion of the moment as a small group of three or four people sang “This World Is Not My Home”.  The strong scent of roses and the sound and lyrics of the song will always take me back to that important time shared with my mother.  I searched YouTube again and found many versions of “This World Is Not My Home”.   This version by the Students of Charity Youth Bible School Choir most nearly represents the tone and beauty of my original experience:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydPJ5QaPFQ0

Today, I exchanged text messages with my 30 year-old son who has been on the road for several weeks.  We shared encouraging thoughts about our family relationships.  I told about photos, from the 1980s and 1990s, of he and his sister, that I had been scanning.  He wrote “We had a good childhood, much better than most”.   I replied “The years passed very quickly”.  He texted back “Yes, I already have gray hairs on my head, and in my beard….I guess I have an old soul”.

Yes, I guess we do have old souls.  Our lives are eternally linked to each other and to all those who have contributed to our DNA through generations.

The ability to reflect on my most powerful and cherished memories is something I treasure and exercise regularly.

James Middleton

January 7, 2014